


Hitomi Loves Girls

by nekosensei (tomoyo_irl)



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-01-15
Packaged: 2019-02-12 21:01:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 23,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12968340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomoyo_irl/pseuds/nekosensei
Summary: Shizuki Hitomi is a rich girl, from an important family, and sole heir to a nice little fortune. And yes, Kaname Madoka's mom is on the executive fast track. But she's a girl. Girls can't love girls.Designed to usurp your series headcanon.





	1. Chapter 1

“So I was thinking,” said Madoka, “that if we’re going to play house, Hitomi would really be the princess, because she’d be better at it.”

_warm breeze, rustling of leaves. postmeridie._

“Well, she does get a lot of practice,” said Sayaka.

_sunlight through the leaves on the babbling brook_

“That’s very kind of you, Madoka, but I don’t mind if you play the princess sometimes. It’s important to share.” _she’d have a lot of fun, too_

“But then I had an idea!” said Madoka. “Hitomi can be the princess, and Sayaka can be the knight, and I can be, like, a ballerina, which is basically as cool as a princess, but different.”

_aren’t you a little too old to be playing ballerina princess_

“Hmm. I’m not necessarily against it, I suppose, but —”

“Great!” exclaimed Sayaka, leaping up on a parapet, brandishing a sword, striking a pose. “You have nothing to fear, your majesty.” Madoka said nothing, but ruffled her tutu, and curtsied.

_well on the other hand I suppose it would be a little rude not to play along_

“Well, if that’s the case,” said the dreamer, taking out the tea box, “I suppose I should prepare some tea.” _Chabako temae_. The outdoor ceremony. _Harmony. Respect. Purity. Tranquility._ Madoka was a good ballerina; her smile was innocent, her manner gentle. The quiet bravery of the vulnerable. It was a good dance, elegant, like a swan, and delicate, like a well brewed cup of tea. Tea. The dance was a distraction. The sleeve of her kimono knocked over a cup. The tea spilled.

_Inelegance._

_Failure. Shame._

_Panic._

She sat up in bed and the blanket slid off the side to the floor. A dull glow of light in the east window. Not quite dawn. Relax. Deep breaths. It’s okay. It was just a nightmare. What had even happened in the dream, anyway? She wasn’t quite sure. She was glad that Madoka got to be a ballerina, though, she was very pretty. _Wait. Madoka’s not a ballerina... Why am I even dreaming of playground things, anyway? Dreams are weird._ She plopped her head back down.

Maybe she should get back to sleep.

Maybe she should stop feeling ashamed about messing up the tea ceremony. It was only a dream.

Maybe she should give up on both of those and just wake up and start the day, take a few extra moments to get ahead on homework.

_Soft pillow, soft nightgown, soft sheets, soft slippers on soft carpet. soft morning twilight, soft glow of the desk lamp._

You could always work a few days ahead in English. What was this stuck in the workbook? An envelope? ... A letter.

She grabbed her phone from where it was charging.

_hey madoka it's almost 5am and your probably alseep but I can't get back to sleep and I think I just found another love letter in my school papers and my heart feels funny should i open it?_

_i opened it and it's a lot nicer than the other one but he says my eyes are like avocados._

_i guess that's supposed to be a good thing though?_

_i mean it's very original at least, and the rest is articulate_

_okay i'm going to put away my phone now and do english but i'll see you in a little while_

"Right. English. You can do this," she assured herself. "Take deep breaths."

—————

_warm breeze, rustling of leaves. postmeridie._

"You're a little later than usual."

"Shush, you," replied Sayaka. "I only hit snooze _twice_. Everything's _fine_."

"If you say so," smiled Hitomi.

"Good morning, guys!" called out Madoka, hurrying into the clearing.

"Good morning!"

"What took you so long, Madoka?" enquired Sayaka. _Oh, Sayaka._ "Look at you with your cute ribbons!"

"You think so? They're not too flashy?" asked Madoka.

"I think they look lovely."

Sayaka made a bit of a show about needing to hurry on account of Madoka's epic lateness, and ran out ahead of the others, and they all played at running to catch up, but the three were soon walking normally again, talking.

"My mom said that if a boy can't say he loves you to your face, he's not worth your time," offered Madoka.

"Your mom is way cool, Madoka! I mean she's smart, gorgeous and successful," proclaimed Sayaka.

"If only I could make up my mind as easily as that."

"If only everyone could have your problems," said Sayaka.

_It's okay. She doesn't know what she's saying._

"You know, she's right," said Madoka. "I wish someone would send me a love letter some time. It'd be nice to get one."

"Ah, now I get it," said Sayaka, mischievously, "you want to be as beautiful and popular as Hitomi here, don't ya? I bet that's why you're wearing those ribbons to change your image."

_don't put it to her like that, it's not like her regular image is wrong, just sort of... little girl-y._

"That's not true!" protested Madoka, "and my mom picked these out and..."

"You _tricked_ your mom into telling you the secret to being popular, didn't you?" Sayaka beamed. "Well, I'm not gonna let that happen!"

Madoka blushed. "No! No, stop it! No!"

"You're just too cute! I'm not gonna let you be popular with the boys. You're all mine, Madoka; you will be my bride!"

_no! you can't have her! you can't take her away! We were friends first, you know! You... you are just Sayaka being Sayaka right now, aren't you._

She closed her eyes, and in a practiced gesture, put her hand to her mouth.

" _ahem_ "

The school's bell rang out, Westminster chimes. Simulated bells.

_Take deep breaths._

—————

There was a new transfer student, miss Akemi, and was honestly looking as if she had designs on Madoka too.

"Will you please come with me?" asked the interloper. "... To the nurses office."

_That's ... not some sort of a euphemism for something, is it?_

She squirmed.

_Take deep breaths._

—————

Madoka finished explaining.

"That's so moe it makes me sick!!!" declared Sayaka.

"This has to be a misunderstanding, Are you positive you've never met her before?"

Madoka explained, _or something._

Sayaka was her usual bundle of laughs about it. "I got it all figured out. You guys knew each other in the past life, and fate has reached across time and space to bring you back together again."

 _Thanks for nothing, Sayaka._ She took note of the time. She'd have to disarm the situation quickly.

"In your dream, what happened when you met her?"

"That's the thing," replied Madoka, "I can't really remember what happened in it. All I know is that it was really strange and spooky."

"If you want my opinion," she said, "I think it's entirely possibly you met Miss Akemi somewhere before. You might not remember meeting her, but your subconscious certainly took note of it. When you were having that dream, your subconscious simply brought up the image of her." _It's fine. It's perfectly normal. Definitely not fate._

Sayaka wasn't having it. "Seriously? That's a heck of a coincidence, don't you think?"

 _More of a coincidence than "fate reaching across time and space?" Sorry, dear,_ she thought, but what she actually said was simply, "Hehe, perhaps." And then, "uh-oh, look how late it's gotten. Excuse me, but I really should be going now."

"Is it piano today or classical dance?" asked the knight.

"Tea Ceremony lessons today. Even though our exams are coming up, my mother still wants me to continue taking them," she explained.

"Yeah," said Sayaka, "there's another reason to be glad I wasn't born a rich girl."

"We should get going too," said Madoka.

"Madoka, you wanna hit the music store on the way home?" asked Sayaka.

"Okay," she replied, "something for Kyosuke again?"

"Yeah, maybe."

Hitomi nodded approval. "Have fun shopping!" _That's right,_ she reassured herself, _if Sayaka actually had the idea in her head to make Madoka her bride, she wouldn't be teasing about it, she'd just go off and do it. But you can tell she really likes Kyosuke, because she's shy about it, and blushes a little._

—————

She smiled on the way to her lesson. _Chabako temae_ , the outdoor ceremony. _Harmony. Respect. Purity. Tranquility._

While she was practicing, Sayaka made Madoka her bride.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written at breakneck speed, single-pass self-edited for content only... let's go!


	2. Chapter 2

She served Madoka at a tea ceremony, and didn't spill a drop. Madoka was dressed in a kimono, pale blue, with a yellow and red sash, flowers at the hem and on the sleeves; in place of her thin red ribbon, wore a red one and white polka dots. A cluster of purple and white stars adorned her hair-clip, a short braided strand of purple hanging down her beside her left cheek.

The morning sunlight filtered gently through the bed-curtains, and the dream faded, but the memory of Madoka's joy and delight lingered.

–

Hitomi wasn't quite sure what her other friends were doing, but it seemed that it involved making weird faces at each other... and after such an elegant morning. Maybe if I say something.

"You look ill. Is something the matter? ... What are you --"

"It's nothing!" interrupted Sayaka, trying to lead her away from the sunbeam, Madoka, "come on, let's go!"

What were you doing, and are you trying to hide, Sayaka? You're flustered and embarassed. It's not like you to get that way unless it's about Kyosuke...

They started to go, but then Sayaka spun back about.

Madoka looks more than a little flustered too. But happy.

For tens of seconds, her two best friends gazed at each other, saying nothing, looking intensely, as Madoka walked over, and the pair started to head off together.

Did they just really coordinate that without talking?

Hitomi's stomach was starting to feel funny.

"Excuse me. What's going on between you? Why do you keep staring at each other?"

"Huh?" asked Madoka, "Oh... Uh... It's... just..."

she's as happy as i've ever seen her, almost ashamed with happiness, but, she's brave about it, and won't even try to hide it...

"You will be my bride, Madoka!"

"I can't believe it! Just by looking at each other, you know what the other's thinking? Oh, for two people to become that intimate after one night... What did you do after I left yesterday?

It must have been the transfer student, Akemi-san; Sayaka saw she was making a move and she decided not to leave things to chance, and...

Sayaka mumbled some sort of half-denial.

"Well, actually..." Madoka began, "lots of things happened but..."

you're mine, madoka

mine, all mine

mine, all mine

you will be my bride...

"That's enough!" declared Hitomi. "You can't be serious! That's... forbidden love!"

She had to get out of here. It's not real. It's another nightmare; just run. Girls can't love girls. Mother would disown you. Which way is the exit?

"You forgot your bag!" shouted Sayaka, but Hitomi kept running.

–

The nightmare was stubbornly persistent.

And the two of them kept ... not-talking to each other in class. More discreetly, to be sure, but Sayaka was bad at hiding her expressions.

Kazuko-sensei was happily occupied with the lesson. "Take a sentence, 'he likes me'. The subject is 'he.' And since he is the one doing something, the sentence is in the active voice."

*He* likes Madoka. Girls can't... they're not allowed!

Madoka was distracted, sketching in her notebook instead of taking notes. I should be taking notes, thought Hitomi, then we can sync up after school in case she's missed anything.

But to be so close... that's like a story, it can't possibly be real. so what did they physically do?

physically...

She swallowed hard.

She thought of her father's lecture, after repeating a dirty joke. "You are a high class girl, Hitomi. You shouldn't indulge yourself with dirty jokes, and dirty thoughts, for the same reason you shouldn't indulge yourself with other things. If you're not an elegant girl, if you're not gracious, if you're greedy, then what you are is a rich self-centered jerk, and they'll put you in an anime as the rich girl with the stupid laugh that everyone loves to hate."

And it doesn't take a lot to cause gossip, she thought to herself, and all it takes is just one misplaced word, in the wrong place, or the wrong time, and that will be the reputation that people will remember you by, forever.

So it's best to be consistently elegant. And these are indulgent, inelegant, dirty thoughts.

The metaphor of dirt expanded in her head. She imagined Madoka in a kimono, and a cloud of heat and dust and dirt coming in on the wind. Madoka spun to meet it, and held out her umbrella to fend off the blast, but it wasn't enough, and the elegant blue fabric was covered in brown, and Madoka's shocked face was covered in grit. But then she turned, to face Hitomi, and the shock gave way first to concern, and then a playful expression.

"Hitomi, your face is all dirty," said the imaginary dirt-faced Madoka, as she folded the tattered umbrella and pranced over on her sandals.

Imaginary-Hitomi wanted to say "I'm sorry," if she could just bring herself to speak, but she was ashamed. And Madoka won't even worry about herself first, because she is kind. Even when it's my fault.

"Shh," said the imaginary Madoka in a quiet tone as she drew near, "don't worry. It's okay. Let me wipe it off." She slowly raised her right hand to Hitomi's head, leaned in gently, by her ear, breathily, and she stuck out her strawberry red tongue ...

...

NO! SHE WOULDn'T DO THAT! ShE'D ... SHE'd ... USE a HANDKERCHEIF! Or SOMETHING! SHE's NOT tHAT KIND OF GIRL!

Hitomi's cheeks were red hot with shame.

–

Take deep breaths.

Take deep breaths. She'd forgotten that so far today.

Take very deep breaths. Slowly. It will be okay.

"Hitomi!" said Sayaka, coming up to the door with Madoka in tow.

Be gracious. Be selfless. Don't indulge. Don't invite yourself along. If they want your company, they'll say so. Let them ask.

Sayska was always effective at making up excuses, but bad about delivering them. "Hey, uh, sorry but we sort of have a couple of errands to run, so..."

She proactively takes the lead, so that Madoka doesn't have to be quite as awkward. That's kind of her. I guess it leaves both of them less embarassed, too.

"Oh, something private?"

And at that, Madoka just had to smile, and Hitomi's cheeks were already flushing red red hot as Madoka reached for words to try to explain.

"I'm so jealous! I guess it's true what they say how two's company... and three's a crowd!" She was running away again, even as Sayaka called after her with another denial.

– It was a small mercy that she didn't have a piano lesson today.

In her bedroom, she laid out a simple, comfortable, flowing dress, a pair of short white socks with a little green ribbon in back. She took out a nice round cushion, and set it down on the rug. Then she took a long, cold shower, dried her hair, put the dress on her self and herself on top of the cushion, and she just sat, still, taking deep breaths, just focusing on her breath, eyes closed, not thinking at all, or maybe just thinking about not thinking, or maybe thinking about breath.

Deep breaths. It will be okay.

As the sun began to sink low on the horizon, the doorbell rang. She counted to three, then purposefully rose, put on a pair of sea-green slippers, and stepped out to the landing. She watched from the balcony for a moment, while the maid got the door for the porters, moving in a pair of suitaces, and then a well-dressed man entered the door, calling out, "I'm home!"

"Papa!" she exclaimed, and she took to the stairs -- swiftly, but taking care to use each step, her dress trailing out behind her.

"My darling angel!" said Papa, throwing open his arms, and smiling.

"How was New York?" asked Hitomi, embracing him warmly.

"Oh, dear. Let not talk about New York just yet. How is your mother?"

"I think she's in the kitchen. You're home early!"

–

The family supped in the smaller dining room, while Papa related his trip, as Hitomi paid careful attention. Sometimes if you're careful you can get away with asking questions without even asking the questions. If you wait for the right moment.

"Last time," said Papa, "we committed to arrange client investments of three billion dollars -- that's about 350 billion yen -- to a new real estate investment platform, in three rounds. That's mostly going to multi-family developments, with a little bit of commercial office. I must have spent five days straight in meetings with Mr. Bishop, and then we spent one whole night just celebrating."

"Mmm-hmm," said Mama. "So what happened this time?"

"Well," said Papa, "I get over to the site, walk into the meeting, and Mr. Bishop isn't there. It's just Doris, Mr. Glenn, and their investor relations team. And they're all looking very, very serious."

"Oh my. Did something happen? Is he okay?" asked Hitomi, politely.

"Of course, the first thing I ask, before I even sit down, is, where's Mr. Bishop? And they come out and tell me that he was fired, because of professional misconduct relating to an affair. So I look over to Mr. Watanabe, and he looks over to me, and I count to three, and then I say very deliberately, gentlemen, you surely know, there's a key-man clause in our contract, and if either Mr. Glenn or Mr. Bishop are no longer employed with the company, then rounds two and three will be automatically off. And Mr. Glenn just nods, solemnly, and says, We know, and everyone looks very, very serious and worried. And I look over to Watanabe, and his eyes are just open wide."

"Oh. Oh dear," said Hitomi.

"So I sat down, and the good news is, there's a new deal," said Papa, "because honestly, we're something like 80% of their investment volume at this stage, though the timeline is about six months slower. But I had to spend all day negotiating with their firm and all night calling Mr. Nakazawa, so that he and Legal could work a couple of all-nighters drafting new terms. And then I have to pull strings with the board, and call an emergency meeting to approve the new terms, and convince them it's still a good idea over teleconference, which you know I despise, and there's like a five second lag on everything. But the good news is, we should be able to get about 15% better returns with the new capital structure, so we come out ahead. Still. It was a close thing."

"Well, thank goodness it's all right," said Mama.

"Thank goodness I have your smiling face to come home to, dear," replied Papa, "and my sweet angel who flies down to greet me at the door."

Hitomi blushed a little, squirming a bit under the table. "Well, I love you, Papa."

He beamed. "And how is school and how are your friends?"

Well, Madoka and Sayaka are dating, and I'm lonely.

"Well, Kamijo Kyosuke is still in the hospital," said Hitomi, racking her brain for anything but news of that, "but he's absolutely safe, and well enough to do physical therapy. And I did a perfect tea ceremony, the outdoors one, and, ah... Mrs. Kaname was sharing tips with Madoka and Sayaka about how to look cute for the boys, and -- oh, yes, I found two love letters in my locker and my notebook, and I'm not quite sure what to make of them." and to be honest, I had almost forgotten.

"What's this now? You didn't tell me anything about these," said Mama, half-chiding.

Papa chuckled. "Ah, I see, my little girl is growing up, and the boys are starting to notice."

This was her moment, to ask without asking.

"Oh, Papa," she chuckled, "but I didn't say they were both from boys."

They were, but I didn't say.

Papa paused, and made a weird face.

"Dear," scolded her mother, "you shouldn't joke about things like that."

Well, it's an answer.

"It's not a joke, Mother," she said, earnestly, "and it's really, really easy to tell; boys wouldn't ever mist the paper with perfume."

"Oh, kids these days," remarked father, offhandedly; "What's it all coming to?" He put down his cup of tea. "Well, my angel, you're not a little girl anymore, but remember, you're still young. You don't need to go out of your way to fall head over heels in love with anyone if you're not ready, okay? Have patience."

Mama relaxed. "Likewise," she added, "I'm sure that you know you're a refined and elegant lady; you don't need to make yourself stand out with flashy baubles."

"Don't worry, Mama," she reassured. "I know."

–

She would confess to Madoka, and the two of them would run away together to ... to a hotel in the countryside, by the beach, and Father would be called away from a meeting in America, and it would be a scandal, and the rumours would fly from Mitakihara to New York. It would be impossibly romantic.

So she took out her smallest suitcase, one that she used for classes sometimes, and packed a summer dress and a swimsuit and put all her savings in an envelope.

And then Father would catch the pair, and he'd drive them home with Madoka in the back seat, and he would give Madoka a lecture, quietly, gently... but he would set her straight, and she would cry, silently, in the back seat, and he would tell her that's okay, and pass her a tissue, and then he would drop her off at home, and he wouldn't say anything else, even when they got home, and Mother would send her to bed without dinner.

So she flopped down on the bad in her nightgown, and played with the bed-curtains with her toes.

Maybe it's for the best this way.

Madoka was always quiet, and shy, and kind, but when she felt safe, when she found something worth doing, she was passionate. If she cared, she would just pour herself into a project, or a game, or a day at the amusement park, and she would want to ride all the rides. And Sayaka was always a better catalyst for that than she was.

Maybe Sayaka is what she needs. She looks so happy, these days. She's still shy, and quite afraid, but she's brave. There's a confidence inside her now.

And Sayaka is a better match anyway. She's spontaneous, unrestrained, ridiculous. I'm only graceful, and elegant. It'd be like... playing castle with two princesses.

And I'd make her look bad, but deep down where it matters she'd be a better princess than I would. She's kind; that's better than being gracious; her joy serves her far better than any elegance.

Hitomi sighed.

So maybe it's all for the best.

And if you're going to be gracious, Hitomi, you need to be happy for your friend. And when they grow less shy about it, you'll be there to listen. If they ever fight, if they're afraid. Maybe they'll even turn to you for advice, and reassurance. And you can stand up for them if people disapprove.

When she thought about that, it made her feel a lot better.

If those two need a little alone time, it's fine. No one is walking out of your life to disappear. The three of us are friends -- forever, you know? You won't suddenly become a stranger.

–

Sayaka took the lead to protect Madoka, once again, chattering on about a mile a minute with overwrought gossip about a poor girl named Yuka. Hitomi would have objected to such talk, but it was clear that she was mostly trying to keep attention away from a quiet Madoka, so she smiled, nodded, said nothing. Had the pair fought? Had Madoka's mom said something? She would try to talk. Maybe a word after school, or at lunch.

–

The two girls conferenced on the roof at lunchtime, without Hitomi.

"It sort of feels like we're in another country, doesn't it?" asked Madoka. "Even though nothing's changed, our school is the same, our class is the same, Hitomi, nothing's changed. But I feel like I'm surrounded by strangers."


	3. Chapter 3

"Excuse me," she inquired in the lunch room, "have any of you seen either Madoka or Sayaka? I was hoping to have a word with them..."

The other girls all shook their heads.

"They've been, like, off doing their own little thing all week," observed Nanami. "Don't you usually walk into school with them, though?"

"Well, usually that's the case," said Hitomi, "but they've been a little bit distant --"

Nakazawa, passing by, intrrupted. "Hey -- I think I saw them a few minutes ago. It looked they were going up to the roof."

"Ooooooh, the roooooof," said Nanami. "So, Madoka got a love letter, but of course she's way too shy to head up there alone to be confessed to, so she asked Sayaka up there to goad her along..."

"Actually," said Wakaba, "I might have seen them heading up there earlier in the week. And they've been going off together a lot lately..."

"Oh. Oh my. So much alone time, so suddenly!" said Nanami.

"Wait, I don't get it... what are you saying?" asked Yuka.

"Yes!!" said Wakaba. "There's only one possible explanation!"

"How unexpectedly lurid!" said Nanami.

"Wait, lurid?" asked Wakaba.

"Huh?" said Yuka.

Wait, they're not ... no. They must't. I should stop them from gossiping... even if it probably is true.

"I mean... okay, well, what were you going to say?" asked Nanami.

"All the mysterious errands together? Spending lots of time alone with each other where no one can see?"

"Mmmhmm?"

"They've clearly decided to become a magical girl duo," said Wakaba, "and must fight to protect Mitakihara City from depraved, otherworldly monsters, beyond human understanding!"

Miss Akemi, at the next table, coughed sharply, and soda shot out through her nose.

"Woah," said Yuka.

Hitomi took a moment to blink. "Are you okay, miss Akemi?"

"I'm ... hak ... perfectly fine," she said, "just ... swallowed wrong, is all."

"You don't need to visit the nurse or anything, do you?"

"No, no," she said, waving Hitomi off, and regaining her composure. "However, I have ... spilled my drink, and I ought to go tidy myself up."

"Okay," she said, "are you quite sure you don't need an escort?"

"To visit the washroom?" she enquired as she stood up. "No. No, I really should hope not," she stated, earnestly, without even a hint of sarcasm.

"Well, all right," said Hitomi. She's a strange girl.

"So anyway," said Wakaba to Nanami, "I don't know what you were thinking, but, it seems like there's a perfectly wholesome explanation for the whole matter."

"Perfectly ridiculous, at least."

"Well, either way," interejcted Hitomi, "I'd prefer not to spread gossip about friends, especially such wild speculation."

"Well you know, if they're up there on the roof, you could always go check on them," suggested Nanami.

"Oh, that would be great!" said Yuka.

"What? Why would that be great?" asked Hitomi.

"Because then you could walk in on them, and make it a threesome!"

Hitomi flailed backwards and fell off her chair, landing on the ground on her bottom.

make it a ... make it a ...

Nanami stood up and looked around the table.

"Oh my gosh, are you all right?" asked Wakaba.

"It's always the quiet ones," said Nanami. "And that goes for both of you."

"Wh- what ... did I say something weird again?" said a startled Yuka.

"TRIO, you doofus! Magical girl TRIO," said Wakaba.

"Isn't that what I said??" replied the girl in confusion.

"Seriously though," asked Nanami, "is Hitomi okay?"

"Oh my god Hitomi your face is beet red," said Yuka.

"Are you hurt? Where's the health representative?" asked Wakaba.

"We've established this," said Nanami; "Madoka and Sayaka are up on the roof together."

"Oh god," said Wakaba."

"So in the absence of our health rep, maybe the class representative should go get a nurse --" began Nanami.

Hitomi somehow partially recovered enough to say something.

"I'm ... I'm all right," she said, holding up one hand, "just a little, ah, jostled around."

"Here, let me help you get up," said Wakaba.

"No, no, I've... I've got it," said Hitomi, but took her hand anyway.

"Geez, girl," said Nanami, "assuming you're actually not hurt, that was ... absolutely hilarious. Wow. Good show."

"Oh, our poor dear Hitomi," said Wakaba, "so sweet, so innocent in the ways of the world. It'll be all right." She paused. "But, you know, if I'd known you were this easy to scandalize... I would have called dibs."

"How unexpectedly lurid." repeated Nanami.

Hitomi swallowed uncomfortably.

"What... I still don't get it!" said Yuka.

"You'll figure it out when you're older, dear," said Nanami.

"I ... I think ..." began Hitomi, stuttering, "I should take a moment and, ah, tidy myself up." She brushed off her skirt. "I'll just be over in the washroom..."

"With Miss Akemi?" asked Yuka.

"... Kinky," said Wakaba.

with miss... akemi...

"This conversation," said Nanami, "is unreal."

"Fuck," said Wakaba.

"L-language!" objected Yuka.

"Well you started it!" said Nanami. "Geez, Yuka, why don't we just all go up to the roof and have a great big fucking orgy?"

"Wow, that was really loud," said Wakaba.

"... Well, I bet it's really nice up on the roof," said Yuka, obliviously, "it's sunny and warm, and ..."

"Oh my gawd," said Nanami, "I can't even."

"... Hitomi, are you all right?" asked Yuka.

-

Miss Akemi was not in the washroom. Maybe she's up on the roof

"... Kinky," said an imaginary Wakaba.

shut up shut up shut up

...but her mind wouldn't shut up, it wouldn't shut up, it just kept going and going...

She went into a little room -- just one the stalls, but it was all enclosed like a clost -- and she locked herself in, and crouched down in the corner, and she leaned up against the wall, and closed her eyes, and tried to get a hold of herself.

The idea of Magical Girl Madoka would have been fuel enough for a whole host of imaginary scenarios. Kimonos and tea ceremonies were bad enough; a magical girl costume would be unending bliss.

Imaginary Madoka giggled. "Oh dear! I've been found out! Don't tell anyone else at school, okay?"

It made too much sense. The girl would pour her soul into that sort of a role, and she would be the pinkest, fluffiest, cutest thing ever.

"Well thank you, Hitomi," said imaginary pink fluffy Madoka as she spun about to show off her shiny red shoes, "but you know, Homura is pretty cute too."

"N-n-no I'm n-not," said the nervous girl beside her, blushing.

"Oh, don't worry," said Madoka playfully, tugging on the flounces of one of her globes, "I'm sure there's enough of me to go around..."

What's wrong with you, Hitomi, why is Homura a moe little meganeko girl, where do you even come up with these things? B- besides, Madoka's not... she's not that kind of girl!

"Don't underestimate Madoka," said Homura (the serious one), sitting across from her, in an incandescent spot in a quiet restaurant. "Yes, she is a good girl. But the fundamental nature of the erotic is founded upon transgression. She simply needs to feel safe, and you, her best friend, are in a fine position to make her feel this way."

"I'm not what exactly what you're suggesting here, Miss Akemi," replied Hitomi.

She pulled out a folder from her bag. "I would suggest you start by proposing a sleepover, a girl's night out. You will propose to host it at your place, but you will tell your mother that it is at her place. After school, arrange a black car service. Not the usual company, I've included a phone number. After that, a train ride to Tokyo."

"Tokyo??"

"Upon arrival in Tokyo, you will check into the indicated hotel. It is just across the street from the train station. Your father has points from his business trips that are due to expire soon anyway. Book a standard suite; they'll upgrade you to a premium suite on the top floor. Before you go, the hotel will receive two packages to place in your rooms, which you must also arrange in advance."

"Packages?"

"Well, you're not going to wear your school uniforms to the ballet."

"The ballet!?!"

"The performance will be a Tokyo premiere of Coppelia," continued miss Akemi, "and you will have front row tickets. You will need your father's platinum card for this -- get in touch with the concierge on the website, the login details are attached. Tell them it's a surprise present for your daughter, and to mail them addressed to the young lady of the house. As for the evening wear, I've enclosed all of Miss Kaname's measurements and suggested a few suitable designs for the two of you which should be ready in time; they are each possessed of adequate frills --"

"H- how do you know ..."

"Because I'm magic, of course," said Miss Akemi, as if it were obvious.

"... really?" asked a credulous Hitomi.

"I also use my magic powers for the purpose of deadpan humor and to cheat on school assignments."

Hitomi blinked.

"Just to be clear, that one was the deadpan humor."

Hitomi laughed nervously.

"I didn't say I was good at the humor," said Homura.

"Miss Akemi," began Hitomi, "why..."

"Because Madoka is a precious friend, and I want her to be safe and happy. Isn't that enough? And... well, you're her friend. In a way, I suppose, I am simply playing the meddlesome matchmaker. I'm just more detail-oriented about it than most people can manage."

Hitomi paused, thinking of something to say. "... But even so, this is over the top. Wouldn't she be happier with, say, a nice country house by the b--"

"Of couse, but if you do it like that, her father will find the two of you out there, and drive the two of you right back home, personally, mostly so he can give the poor girl one of his earnest lectures along the way to Mitakihara. And then she cries. And then, well..." She pushed the folder over to Hitomi. "It's bad. Trust me. Besides, if she's going to be happy with you, then she needs to be a proper, lovely princess."

A confused Hitomi blinked. "I don't think I know quite what to say, miss Akemi."

"Please. Call me Homura." She put her hands together, and put her chin on her hands. "Now, the next part is even more important. Hitomi, do you even know what to do with an eleagant young woman after showing her a very nice time? Do you even have the mental vocabulary to imagine?"

She shrunk back into the corner of the booth. Her heart was pounding.

"In many ways," Homura said, "it's better that you're uncertain. She will be uncertain too. You can laugh at each other. But I think I can say a few words, my dear Hitomi, about exactly how to drive your dear little strawberry shortcake completely out of her mind."

-

Sayaka loves Madoka too.

Miss Akemi loves her very much indeed.

The blonde girl, and her redhead friend from out of town.

-

I'm not the sweet girl you thought I was, Papa.

You've misjudged me. You'd be so shocked.

She regained consciousness on the floor. Her head hurt, and she was gross, and sweaty.

I must stink with lust.

She couldn't show her face in class right now. And she couldn't go to dance after school. She was a wreck. What time was it, even? Had she even missed the rest of class and practice?

She couldn't even dare go home to Papa.

I'm sorry, Papa. It's not your fault. You didn't raise me to be so... carnal.

How was her brain even capable of these images? Where could she have been exposed to even rumors of this depravity before? Was it just today that she had blushed at the thought of threesomes? How vanilla.

It must be... instinct, she supposed, like I'm some sort of an animal.

Well did you expect you were plant? The voice laughed, like one of those snooty rich girls in an anime you were just supposed to hate. Oh, such a pretty little flower... Of course, that's not really much better.

Shut up, she thought.

But yes, definitely an animal, said a voice in her head, and more specifically, a mammal, and as far as that goes, certainly one of the finest in the school. Why, simply look down at those fine ...

i said shut up, she thought, and folded her arms and tried not to look down.

Oh, but what a shame! She's afraid of herself. A little animal, afraid of her body and what it makes her do. A pause. Well, I suppose it is a shameful thing, you know. But you surprised me! Where did all that come from? With most people, you can tell the fantasies from memory but I swear, there must have been a dozen shameful first kisses in there, all so perfectly clear. You just don't stop, Hitomi!

shut up shut up shut up

Oh, I'm so very sorry, said the voice, not sounding very sorry. But - you know - you shouldn't be so hard on your father. He did a very good job, and you are such a lovely, beautiful girl on the inside. So gentle, so gracious. It's a shame.

She wanted to say, shut up, and, don't say that about Papa, but, then, the voice hadn't said anything about Papa. Damn it all.

Come now, said the voice, you needn't worry in the least. I will show you a better way. And you can bring the others so that I can show you all.

-

"When I was talking with Homura," mumbled Madoka to herself, "it felt like we could be friends. I wonder why she and Mami didn't get along?" She shuffled on, pondering, then paused "Huh? is that Hitomi? Hey, Hitomi! I thought you were at practice today."

It was better than dance practice. Hitomi was leaping, flying into the sky. It was an open space, and she must have hit ten meters or so, before she was pulled back down. She was pure, and focused, and radiant. She may have had wings; it was hard to see.

"Hitomi!" cried Madoka. "Hey, Hitomi come on!"

She looked down from the peak of her flying leap. Below her, a chain, stretching down to a havey anchor. Oh, but also, her best friend. Her sweet, pure, delightful, innocent friend.

"Oh, good evening, Madoka," replied the anchor. "How are you?"

"Huh?" said a confused Madoka. "What happened to you? Do you know where you are, where you're going?"

"... Where am I going?" How could she explain it? How could she make the words come out ... down there? "... I'm going somewhere wonderful, that's where."

It had come out a little funny. Madoka looked confused. "Hitomi...?"

She tried harder. "Oh, yes. And you simply must come with! Yes. You'll see. It'll be so wonderful!" Come with me, my pure Madoka. We shall attend the ballet together, but this time, we shall both be as dance itself, and pure as light.

-

The stage was full of lights, and the lights were the dancers, and the dancers were all in chains. The hierophant, who glowed softly, knelt on the ground by the altar, as the prima donna approached center of the dance; she was a very beautiful, and the weight on the end of her chain was very heavy. It was an excellent casting.

"No, stop it!" cried out the friend. "Don't do that!!!"

Oh, little shining, Madoka dear, you don't understand. How can I explain? But you'll ruin everything.

"This is a sacred ceremony," said the heavy anchor, "we can't have you interrupting it."

"But those chemicals are really dangerous! If you mix them together, everyone here could die!"

"Yes, and we're all going to go on a wonderful journey to a magnificent new world... Don't you see what an amazing opportunity this is? We can finally get rid of these bodies that hold us back." She smiled. "Oh, Madoka, in a little while you'll understand too."

"Let go of me!" cried the girl. She slipped past, and then, in a moment of glory far brighter than the sun, rushed forward and stole the show.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reminder: Yuka is canon.


	4. Chapter 4

Magical Girl Sayaka, as a knight in the twin causes of justice and peace, not only beat up the witch to save Madoka, but also dialed emergency services.

"There's a bunch of people just sprawled out on the ground, and it smells really really bad, like, weird cleaning chemicals! ... I should leave the area immediately? Got it!!" She slammed the handset down on the receiver gleefully; it was an older, rotary desk phone, and the bell inside made a faint but satisfying ringing sound from the impact.

Madoka was still a little shell-shocked. She'd sat down on the floor. "Sayaka..."

"Come on, now, we need to get out of here," said Sayaka, "or they'll start asking you all sorts of questions about what happened, and I'm trying to keep this below the radar."

"Is Hitomi ... okay?" asked Madoka.

"Yeah, I checked, she's asleep like all the others," said Sayaka. She turned to face Homura. "I'm finishing up here. You and me, we can talk later, k?"

Homura said nothing, but turned away, disappearing into darkness and silence.

"Weirdo." Sayaka turned back to Madoka. "Oh, wow, Madoka, you're a wreck. That witch must have done a number on you." She smiled gently. "Here. Let me carry you home."

"... wait, really?"

"Come on. The last two things that either of us need right now is a trip to the hospital, and an interview with the police."

. . .

"Oh. Oh no. No," said a voice, muffled, through the fire mask, as the door rolled upwards.

"I think I'm going to be sick," said another nearby.

Red and white lights strobed from the engine back at the street.

The tall man pressed the button on his radio, and it squeaked the digital chirp. "We're seeing a lot of bodies, Chief. This doesn't look good."

bsqurrk-SHHT. "Understood. Nobody take any chances without taking readings first."

bsqurk. "Copy."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Squad Two here. We're got something real weird over here. Like, there's this big hole in the wall, but not an explosion or anything, just, like someone used a pair of tin snips to put a four meter hole in the office."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Copy, squad two. Any sign of our caller?"

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Negative. Chem-kit looks like it might be picking up traces of chloramine, but it's pretty faint."

"You got anything?" he asked his squad-mates.

The other two shook their heads. "Zero reading."

He pressed the button again. bsqurrk "Squad One. We got negative results at the garage door; I'm going to ease on in careful-like and take a look at the casualties."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Go ahead, squad one."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Squad two, I think I found a chemical spill in back. There's a bucket on its side in the alley, small puddle, bunch of discolored concrete around it. Not sure it's big enough to be the main event, though. Readings for you in a sec."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Copy. You let us know if it's safe to send cleanup."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Right, I can smell it all the way from here, I'm gonna keeping way back."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "All right, squad one."

He walked slowly into the garage, kneeling down beside the nearest body, steeled his nerves, looked down into his face. Was he imagining it, or ...

Fuck it, they had a zero reading. He took off his glove, and pressed it up to the man's neck, to make sure.

By some small miracle...

bsqurrk. "Squad one, chief, first body is still breathing. I hope we got some ambulances headed this way."

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "Copy squad one, how many casualties are we looking at?"

bsqurrk. "I dunno, boss, it's dark in here; at least twenty. I'd put it at fifty, to be safe. I think we should move in deep and take readings on the back wall, see if there's anything to worry about, in case we need to move fast."

A pause.

bsqurrk-SHHHT. "All right, go ahead. First EMTs should be here in five."

\--

"Hey there. Easy, now. You okay?"

A confused, sleepy face looked up at him. "Huh?"

"Don't worry. It'll be all right. What's a pretty young lady like you doing on this side of the tracks?"

"I was just ... dance practice," said the girl.

"I see, I see. Just stay calm, take deep breaths. It looks like there's been a bit of trouble, but everything's fine. What's your name?"

"Huh?"

"Your name. Who are you?"

She blinked slowly. "I think I'm ... an angel."

"Okay, okay. Do you think you can stand?"

"I don't ..." she trailed off, wiggled her foot, and made a face. "It feels like I'm still floating."

"Floating?"

"Like I'm still up there..." she gestured, awkwardly, "about a meter up. It's a little wobbly."

"Okay. Hold on, Angel. I'm going to pick you and take you out of here, okay?" He scooped her up in his arms. "Gotcha."

She giggled, and closed her eyes. "Everything's wobbly."

"Don't worry, it'll be fine." He turned and started walking to the big garage door.

The girl suddenly made a yelping sound, and flailed her arms.

"Woah whoa whoa whoa whoa, easy now. Take deep breaths."

She was not taking deep breaths. "N-n-not so fast!" she squeaked. "You'll l-leave... me .... I can't, quite... keep up."

He looked down at her face, puzzled. The poor thing looked absolutely spaced out. "How's that, now?"

"Just ... hold on a moment," she said, "I'm still a little bit..." She gestured with her hands, making circles. "There's a bit more than there should be, and I'm all tangled... tangled up."

He just nodded. "Okay. You ready now, Angel?"

"No!" she blurted, alarmed.

"Okay, okay..."

"Almost," she said.

"Let me know, okay?"

"Just another mo--" she started.

"Miss?"

She suddenly convulsed, and groaned, and smacked him in the face with her knee. "Aaaaaaah!"

"Oof!" he exclaimed. "Whoa, whoa, easy, easy..."

"Who -- who are... where am I? What's going..."

"Careful there. Deep breaths, remember?"

"No?"

She seemed a lot less spaced out now, at least.

"You're all there now, right?"

"I'm... what? I certainly hope so? Who..."

"Shhh. It's okay, Angel. I'm an EMT. You're perfectly safe. I'm just taking you over to the ambulances outside, just so we can check you out, okay? Just to be sure you're fine."

"Outside... where?"

"Do you know where you are?" he tried again. "You said something about dance practice."

"Dance ... practice ... I think I ... missed dance practice." She cringed. "I think I missed half my classes and dance practice."

"Hush now, miss Angel. We'll sort it all out. Looks like you're doing better now, at least."

"Why are you ... why are you calling me that?"

"I'm sorry, miss, I thought you said it was your name?"

"... No." she said. It sounded weird coming from a stranger.

"I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"I'm... Shizuki. Shizuki Hitomi."

"Oh. Shizuki, like the bank?"

She frowned and made a face. "Yes."

"Okay, okay there, miss. Stay calm. We're almost there. Easy. Do you think you can sit?"

"Yes."

"Okay, okay. You sit right there. Relax. Give me a second here." He motioned the technician aside for a word.

"What's up?" asked the tech.

"Hold up. Let me grab old baldy over there." He waved down an older man, a policeman, detective, beckoned him over.

"Gentlemen," he said, "what do we have over here?"

"Not sure. Says her name is Shizuki Hitomi. She was really, really spacey when I got to her, said her name was Angel, and seemed to think she was having an out of body experience. Now, I know it's not strictly my department, but I'm thinking, fancy little princess like her all the way out here, it's probably some sort of designer drugs, maybe a rave gone wrong; I'm just not sure the rest of the crowd here really fits."

"Huh," said the detective. "Makes about as much sense as anything else I've heard tonight. We'll check it out."

"What I'm thinking," said the EMT, "is that we get to the hospital and run some blood tests, maybe check some of the others too, because there's medical implications. And if there's nothing, well, then, that's fine. Alternative hypothesis, some sort of head trauma when she fell, so check for a concussion."

"Right," said the technician.

"Great. It's been a pleasure, Mister ...?" He extended a hand.

"Ikari. Detective Ikari, if you don't mind."

"Got it, Detective. Thanks." He turned to leave.

"Hey, what's your name, kid?"

"Ah. I'm sorry, I'm Mizushino. Mizushino Sho."

The tech watched him head back around the corner, and shook his head.

"Interesting kid," said the detective.

The technician snorted. "Sho likes to lay it on real smooth, man. Don't think he knows how to turn it off, either."

"... Huh," said the detective.

. . .

"Hey hey, Sho," said the other EMT, "I see you got yourself a real nice piece of -- oof!"

Sho punched him in the shoulder -- not really hard, but not soft or anything, either. "Shut it, Takarada."

"Ow! Hey, why you gotta be like that?" he replied, rubbing his arm. "I got stuck with little old cleaning lady, and she literally shit her pants. Cut me some slack."

"What, Takarada, are you chasing after middle school girls now? I didn't know you were that fucking desparate. Have some fucking standards."

"Huh? Those tits are saying high school, minimum."

"Okay, one. That's a middle school uniform, you dumbass. Ribbon in the front. In high school, she'd wear a tie. You need learn to read the field, man, and this is like, fucking basics. You gotta do a hell of a lot better than that. Two. Our little princess got herself a rich, rich daddy. If you go over there and make her feel gross - and trust me me, you're making me feel gross right now - next thing you know, papa makes a call to his foundation or whatever, and you're on everybody's shit list. Now, if that were all, I might just not care, except we've still got to work together, and I don't need you making me look bad."

"... Shit, man. I'm sorry --"

"Forget it. Listen. If you're out saving little girls, then you do what they pay you to do, and play the hero, and you play it straight, man. If you like what you see, that's your business, but you don't say nothing, you don't go out of your way to go looking for nothing, and you sure as hell don't start touching nothing. You cool with that?"

"Whoa, man. Okay. I got it. I got it."

"So hey. She's a poor girl in middle school. Girl like that should be home in bed right now. You and I, we're just like big brothers. You ask her if she's okay, you tell her it's all gonna be all right. You tell her she's pretty, but like, you're almost talking down to her, just a bit, like the way her daddy would tell her she's pretty. You build up her confidence; you don't go pulling any moves."

Takarada just nodded, dumbly.

"Now go back and take care of your - wait. Why did you think she was a cleaning lady?"

"Cuz she's like over there on the floor with a whole jug of bleach and a bottle of something else?"

"Shit." He turned back to the ambulance. "Detective Ikari!!!" He waved his arms. "Yo!!!"

"What? ... I don't get it."

"... You know, maybe the world is safer if you don't know." He sighed. "Detective! Hey. Listen. Takarada, you want to tell him what you just told me, about what you found in there by the little old lady?"

. . .

"Hey there. You still doing all right?"

The girl looked back up at him.

"Excuse me. Did they find another girl?"

"How's that now?"

"Another girl. She's from my class. I'm not sure, but I think she was here. Is she okay?"

"Well, I didn't hear that we found anyone else your age, but I can ask around."

"Please do. Thank you," she said.

"Hey Detective!"

. . .

"Ugh." Kaname Junko picked up the phone with intense un-enthusiasm. She had just gotten into bed, moments before. "Hello. Kaname household," she mumbled. It was -- what, 2 am?

"Hello, ma'am. I'm Detective Ikari, with the Mitakihara City Municipal Police Force. Apologies for calling you at such an hour; hopefully this is nothing, but we just wanted to make sure out of an abundance of caution..."

"... Wait, what?"

"Again, it's probably nothing, so please don't be alarmed but ... there's been a small incident, and a student at the local middle school was involved, and she said thought she might have seen your daughter there. She wasn't sure. We just wanted to make sure that she was safe at home, out of an abundance of caution."

"W - what kind of an incident?"

"It's part of an ongoing investigation, so I really shouldn't say, ma'am."

"I'll ... I'll go check right now."

Her heart pounded. I didn't actually see her when I got home. Is she okay? She moved swiftly up the stairs, quietly tried the bedroom door. Her eyes darted to the open window, and then the bed, and Madoka wasn't --

no, she was there, just bundled up like a spring roll in her sheets, at the foot of the bed.

Trouble sleeping, dear? Oh, you're still in your uniform. You silly girl. Cherish sleep, Madoka, before it gets away from you...

. . .

"So the detective called," he explained, "and she's safe at home. Her mother didn't think she'd even been anywhere. Your friend is perfectly safe."

The girl smiled, and relaxed. "I'm sorry for causing concern. Thank you very much, Mr...?"

"Call me Sho," said the EMT. "This is my buddy, Takarada. He's on my crew. He can be kind of a dolt but I think he's got potential so I'm trying to turn him around. Right, bro?"

"Huh? Oh. Yeah," said the other guy.

Sho smirked. "See what I mean? Anyway, how are you holding up? Can we get you anything? Cup of green tea?"

"No, I'm fine," said Hitomi. "Thank you."

. . .

Detective Ikari was driving; he slipped into the stream of ambulances as they started to pull off.

"What do you think, Mitsuhiro?"

"Don't like it one bit," said the younger man.

"Well, no shit."

"On the face of it, I'd say it looks like some sort of mass suicide, except nobody seems to be dead. How the fuck is that supposed to work? Makes me think something else is going on, something real weird, but I can't think of anything that makes sense."

"Yeah." He took a puff on his cigarette. "You know what else don't make sense?"

"That girl?"

"The girl, for a start. Buncha washed-up old salarymen. Factory manager. Couple little old ladies. Exactly one middle school girl. She doesn't fit."

"Nope," said Mitsuhiro.

"Girl says she thought she saw her friend," continued Ikari, "but I called the mom, and the girl's safe at home."

"Hey, hold on. Didn't the dispatch say something about the person who called it in to begin with, sounded like a girl? Don't think we ever found her. Unless it's like, the same girl."

"Right, we're gonna want the tapes on that call," said Ikari.

"I'll get them. I also pulled tapes from their surveillance, but they didn't have a lot. Tomorrow morning, when everything opens, I'll start knocking on doors, see what else I can get. I guess everybody just walked all the way out here from wherever, should be able to track how some of them got here, at least."

"Right. Meanwhile, we talk to a certain miss... Shizuki Hitomi..."

"Shizuki? Like the bank?"

"... Shit."

"Like Shizuki Tower. Like, the plaza and performing arts venue, downtown."

"Okay, okay, hold on, don't get carried away. It's probably a big family. We don't have any confirmation at all that she's, like, the CEO's daughter or anything."

"Why, detective! You surprise me! Never in a million years would I have you pegged as an optimist."

Ikari took another puff. "Well if you put it that way..."

"You think there's any chance there's not a missing persons report out for her?"

"Oh, fuck me."

"So supposing it's the same family. You suppose daddy's going to be real happy if we start poking and prodding his little precious angel and asking her uncomfortable questions?"

"We should have asked her questions on the scene, damn it..."

"Oh, man, I wonder how quickly Daddy Shizuki can make it over to the hospital. You think that kind of guy keeps a helicopter at home?"

"Gonna run this express, hmm?"

Mitsuhiro gave it a moment's thought. "How about I run interference on the staff as she checks in, buy us a little time, while you head in and take a statment? Then, when Daddy shows up, she's still busy getting looked at, sir, but we'll spare no effort to get you to see her straight away..."

"Right," said Ikari. "If you're doing that, see if you can grab the paramedic who was talking to her, what was his name, Souta or something. Not Souta. Sho. Forget his full name. You'll know him. Good first impression, seems like a real stand-up sort of guy, real on top of things, but a smooth talker, and just feels like he just wants to have some sort of an angle on everything six ways 'til Sunday. Hell, get him talking, take a statement from him, too, just in case."

"Sounds like a plan." He took one last puff, and stubbed the butt of his cigarette in the ashtray. "We'll get to the bottom of this yet."

"What's our story for Daddy? He'll want to know."

"I dunno. Tell him it was, like, some sort of mass hallucination or some bullshit story like that."


	5. Chapter 5

She'd drifted halfway back to sleep, when she heard what seemed like a familiar voice, off in the distance.

"Hey, I'm not the medical expert here, I just know what they tell me," said the detective, opening the door.

She propped herself up on the table, and looked over. "... Papa?"

"Oh, Hitomi," he said, gently, "thank goodness, my poor girl, are you all right?"

She leaned forward and embraced him in a hug. "Oh, Papa." She smiled, peacefully. "I'm ... I'm fine. A little bit, uh, spaced out, but I think that's just because I haven't eaten, and it's late."

He was quiet for a few moments, just holding her.

"I'm glad you came, Papa."

"Oh, but of course I'd come. And if I were in Tokyo, I'd take the bullet train to come. And if I were in Shanghai, I'd take a plane, straight away."

"Oh, Papa."

"Now, granted," he said, letting go of her, "if I were all the way over in New York, I'd make sure Mama came over first, just because it's such a long way."

She smiled back at him. "Thanks, Papa."

The doctor appeared at the door. "Mr. Shizuki, I presume?"

He turned to face the door. "Yes, that's me."

He looked down at his clipboard, perhaps more of habit than anything else, then back up. "Right, so, we ran some blood tests. They came back mostly clean -- your blood sugar's a little low, nothing a glass of apple juice won't fix."

She nodded, "Okay."

"The most important thing you should do right now is get some rest, and you'll do that better at home in your own bed. Then come back here tomorrow afternoon -- well, it's tomorrow already, but you get the idea -- then we can take some time, we'll someone check you out all properly, just make sure everything's fine. If we did it now, all the tests will just come back 'sleep-deprived', and that doesn't help."

"I understand there were quite a few people affected. Do you have any idea what happened?" asked Papa.

"Well, the police said they're going to call it 'mass hallucination', which basically is them talking out their -" he glanced quickly at Hitomi - "um, rear ends, because doesn't mean anything or explain anything. I can't really blame them, though, because I can't tell them what it is, either. The other patients don't seem to have a lot in common, none of them know how they got down there... and Hitomi here is the only young lady." He sighed. "The only thing in common is that everyone reported having intrusive thoughts, right before they lost track of themselves and started... sleepwalking."

"Intrusive thoughts?" asked Hitomi.

"Thoughts you can't control that interrupt what you're doing -- usually violent, sometimes just disgusting, but they just won't stop or go away. Usually that's a manifestation of some pre-existing psych disorder, though, or acute psychological distress. It doesn't suddenly affect forty-some-odd people all at once."

"Oh," said Hitomi. "I see."

"So I'll write you a note for school --"

. . . . .

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked, as she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Well," said Hitomi carefully, "I was just sitting down at lunch, and someone made a joke -- well, it's Yuka, so actually, she just said something innocently, and the other girls turned it into a really dirty joke -- and I got really embarassed, and excused myself to the washroom, and..." She shuddered. "I just couldn't stop thinking about it, and I lost track of time. Then I was dreaming of dance practice, I think, and I woke up and a nice paramedic was helping me to the ambulance."

He nodded gently. "Do you feel better now?"

"Mmm. Sleepy," she replied.

"Well, my darling," he said, squeezing her hand, "if you ever need to talk about it, or about anything, you let me know, all right? Don't even worry about me being busy, you're more important. I might need a little while to clear the time, but you know what? I have people who work for me for a reason. They can take care of things there. They don't get to take care of you, like your Mama and I do."

She nodded, and squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Papa."

. . . . .

"Nanami," said Wakaba. "I'm sorry."

"Hmm?"

"I'm so, so sorry. I beg of thee, be merciful."

"What." Nanami stated the word flatly.

"I have done a terrible thing," said Wakaba.

"What."

"An unforgiveable thing."

Yuka looked away uncomfortably.

"What did you do."

"She was just so worried, and she looked at me ... like a little lost puppy dog, and I ..."

Nanami blinked. "No, seriously though, what did you do?"

"I explained to Yuka --"

"HOW COULD YOU!"

"I know, I know, but --"

"Our dear sweet innocent," she said, stepping over behind Yuka and embracing her from behind, like a mother concerned for her daughter. "You have scandalized her."

"And I didn't even call dibs."

"Yuka. Our dear friend. Our precious gift that keeps on giving."

"I know."

"Our goose that lays the golden eggs. You killed her."

"I explained everything."

"Wait, everything?" enquired Nanami, as she released Yuka, who was still looking a mixture of worried and uncomfortable.

"Mmm-hmm. Everything."

"... why, how unexpectedly lurid!"

Yuka's face turned bright red. "Stop it!" she cried.

"Seriously though," said Wakaba, "Yuka was really worried, and we still haven't seen Hitomi."

"What?"

"She never came back."

"What??!?"

"After you left, and she didn't show up, I took her bag over to the office, and then after school, the principal was going through all the clubs and teams asking if anyone had seen her, and we still don't know where she is."

"Wait, seriously?"

"Seriously seriously."

"That's... wow. Okay. You're forgiven."

"My lady is kind and merciful."

"Seriously. All shenanigans are off until we figure out what happened."

Yuka startled, suddenly, letting out a short gasp, and pointed out the window. "There she is!"

"Where / Oh thank goodness!" said Wakaba, rushing over to see.

"A new dawn rises on Mitakihara City. All is well."

"Ooooh, is that a limo?" asked Wakaba, gazing down.

"No, it's just a, how do you call it, a town car?"

"Oh," replied Wakaba.

"Still. She's got a chauffeur today," noted Nanami. "Something is therefore up. It's not like Hitomi to just flaunt the family wealth... Oh, is that her daddy there in the backsweet? I mean... seat. How sweet. You know what I mean."

"What's the difference, anyway?" asked Wakaba.

"... between a seat and a sweet?" asked Nanami.

"A limo and a town car."

"The limo is, like, really looong," said Yuka, "so it's harder to, you know, put it into places."

Wakaba blinked, turning her head slowly to make eye contact with Nanami.

"You know, I think it's all going to be okay," said Nanami, quietly.

Wakaba nodnodnodded, then turned back. "What kind of places, Yuka?"

"Huh? Oh ... Like, um, driveways."

Nanami considered for a moment, then turned to Wakaba. "Is that some sort of a euphemism for something?"

"Whaa?"

. . . . .

It was maybe a little embarassing having her father drive with her to school, but, not as badly so as walking would be, and it would make him feel better about letting her go to school.

but I don't want to make it a big deal, and it's going to be a big deal anyway, but if I don't go, it will be an even bigger deal. and hopefully, if I go, I'll feel more normal, so it will be less of a big deal.

So she said goodbye, and gave him a hug, and headed upstairs to homeroom.

"Hitomi!" said Nanami. "Where were you, we were worried sick."

Ah yes. I'd forgotten.

She closed her eyes and laughed gently. "Well, it's kind of a long story.."

"Indeed!" declared Wakaba, putting her arm around Hitomi's shoulder, "gather 'round, and listen to the tale of an ordinary middle school student, much like yourselves, who went off to the washroom during lunch, and never came back."

"Because she was eaten by a witch!" exclaimed Yuka.

There was a clattering noise from nearby.

"Whoa. Are you okay?" asked Nanami, turning her head.

"I'm fine," said Akemi Homura, dangling awkwardly from her desk by one arm, her legs stretched out on the floor behind her; "I simply slipped, and knocked my things to the floor. I am not used to the desks here," she explained, standing up.

"Are you hurt?" asked Wakaba. "Where's the health representative?"

"I am unharmed," assured miss Akemi. "Please, don't worry about me."

Hitomi nodded. "Like Miss Akemi, I am also unharmed," she said, "and that's the important part, but I need to go to the office; I think they have my bag. I promise I'll explain it all later."

"Do you need an escort?" asked Nanami.

"To go to the office?" enquired Hitomi, quizzically.

"Office. Lunch room. Washroom. Everywhere. I mean, look what happened last time."

She chortled.

. . . . .

"Oh, excuse me," she apologized to Madoka, "that was terribly rude."

"What's up, Hitomi?" asked Sayaka. "Didn't you get enough sleep?"

"I didn't. I was up really late talking to the police, and getting checked out at the hospital."

It was easier to explain to close friends.

"Really?" asked Sayaka. "What happened?"

"Well, apparently," replied Hitomi, "I was sleepwalking or some such thing... Oh, but there were several others who had the same symptoms. And when we all woke up and found ourselves in a strange place together."

"What? What's up with that?"

"The doctor said we most likely suffered a mass hallucination. So, after school today, I have to go back to the hospital for more tests. It's such a bother."

"After going through that, you shouldn't have come to school today."

"I couldn't do that. If I stayed home, then everyone would think I was sick. I don't want my parents to worry about me more than they already are." And you shouldn't worry about me, either.

"Spoken like a true honor student," declared Sayaka.

. . . . .

"So, retracing your steps, what's the last thing you can clearly remember?" The doctor clicked his pen, ready to take notes.

She made a funny face. How do you even explain?

"Well, I went to school, and I was having lunch, and I got up to, ah, make use of the washroom. And after that, things get a little fuzzy."

He nodded. "What do you mean by that exactly?"

"Well," she said, "when I was there, it was as if I were remembering things, stories about myself and my friends, and they all seemed like very real memories, except when I think about them I know that there's no way they could be real."

"Why's that?"

"Well, I'd remember the same time several different ways, or I'd remember someone like - like the new transfer student, who's always very cool and serious, except she was shy and timid. And I guess I remembered myself doing things that I... well, I just don't know where any of that came from."

The doctor nodded. "What kind of things?"

She squirmed. "I don't actually remember any of the specifics, but I do remember that I was really uncomfortable with myself."

"And after that?"

"After that ... it's even harder, but, I suppose it felt like I was floating. I really don't remember more than that, until the ambulances got there and woke me up."

He nodded. "You said on the scene that you thought you'd seen a friend there, too?"

"Oh, yes, Madoka. I wanted to show her ... but no, that must not have happened either, because I saw her at school again today and she was fine."

"You remember anything else about waking up?"

She pondered. "I feel like I should have been more worried, but the man kept saying I'd be fine, and I just felt... safe."

She smiled for a moment, glancing at the mirror on the far wall.

. . . . .

"So you think her story's legit?" asked Ikari, watching from the other side of the glass in a darkened room.

"I don't see why not. It's roughly in line with the others."

"Timeline's a little weird. She starts blacking out at lunch. The others, it's well after sunset."

"Sure," conceded Mitsuhiro, "but she's also just a girl. If it's a chemical release, or some sort of drugs, she might be affected more quickly just because she's smaller. The real problem is we still have no working model for its distribution."

"If she's affected before anyone else, she's the one who will pushing the boundaries out on our models, too. We need to understand her movements, and not just from yesterday. All week, at least."

"Maybe. I can look into things at the school, I guess."

"We need to be looking at school, on her way to school, hanging out at the mall, everything. Keep an eye out for that friend she mentioned, too. Working surveillance footage would be really nice."

"Right. That part doesn't make any sense either."

"Nope." He pondered a moment. "Unless it's electromagnetic somehow."

Mitsuhiro made a face. "I can't imagine how that'd work biologically."

"Okay, so picture this," proposed Ikari. "We've got some exotic drug gang or whatever going around with their new high. The distributors are real smart, have some sort of a gadget to cover their tracks. Then one night, something goes wrong. Badly made batch, some sort of powder gets everywhere, and boom, everyone's tripping balls."

"Mmm. You think the girl's a bystander then, not a user?"

"Could go either way."

Mitsuhiro thought for a while.

"Want to see if we can get Data Science involved? Go hunting for camera outages. See if we can find anything there."

. . . . .

As long as I'm at the hospital, though...

She checked the time. There should be a few minutes left, yes, and she knew the way, so she strolled down to knock on a familiar door.

"Come in!" said a voice, cheerily.

"Kyosuke? Good evening," she said, entering. He sounds better today!

"Oh, Hitomi!" he said, "you just missed everybody." He was sitting up in bed, holding his violin in the left hand, fingering the strings on the fingerboard -- practicing the motions without playing.

"... Kyosuke?" she said, eyes wide. "What ... you're not..."

He beamed. "A miracle happened."

She gasped, hurriedly setting down her bag to rush over.

"It can't be!" she exclaimed. "Oh, but of course, it wouldn't be completely better --"

"No. Completely better."

"What?? How..." She rushed over to sit down by the bed, and pressed her hand against his, finger-tips brushing against each other, shifting to match each other. His hands were still callused, his skin stiff and rough to her soft touch.

"So this is what a miracle looks like," she marvelled. Then, self-awareness returning, she let it go. He continued to move his hand, still happy.

"When did it happen? I hadn't even heard..."

"Just this morning. They don't have any explanation for it at all." Then, his smile shifted to an annoyed frown. "Of course, that means they want to run a whole lot of tests on it now."

"Oh, goodness. I can only imagine. I've been -- well, it's a long story, but I had to come in for tests myself; that's why I'm here."

"Really? What happened?"

"Well," she said, uneasily... "You didn't watch the news today, did you?"

"No. I usually do, when I'm stuck here all day, but today's been a little bit too exciting."

She sighed. "Well... there would have been a story about some mass hallucination, and, a lot of people were affected..."

His eyes went wide. "I did see that, when they were taking me to do some more tests on my hand."

"Well, then... I was there."

"No way!"

"And they wanted to ask me a lot of questions, and run a lot of tests on me, which is why I'm here..."

He chuckled, smiling. "Welcome to my life."

She smiled back at him. "Well, in my case, I think it's not nearly as much about uncomfortable poking, but a whole lot of questions about my friends, and where we hang out, because they want to figure out why it happened, and they want to know all about what I was thinking, which I don't remember, and..."

"Yeah, that's different." He pondered a moment. "I suppose I was about to ask you what it was like, but on second thought, when you put it that way, maybe I shouldn't."

She sighed. "It's fine. At least I have someone to talk to about it, besides Mama and Papa. They worry too much."

"What about Sayaka and Madoka?"

She sighed. "It's complicated; those two are sort of off in their own little world with each other right now. I'm actually a little lonely, lately."

He nodded. "Well, if you need someone to listen then."

Best to skip over the lurid parts, I suppose.

"I was having very vivid dreams, I guess, and I couldn't tell the dreams from reality, and then... I suppose I was sleepwalking, but it was also like an out of body experience at the same time. I can't remember the details all that well, just the general feeling.

He pondered a moment, before speaking. "Back when I had the accident, before the paramedics came to help, there was a little while when I almost felt like I was floating above my own body. It was... peaceful, almost." He considered. "I was almost reluctant to leave with them and go back to feeling all that pain, but then I passed out."

She nodded. "Yeah. It was a lot like that."

"I guess we live in a world that's ... a little more complicated and different than we thought." He pondered a moment, and flexed his fingers. "You know, though, Sayaka was just in here yesterday, when I was losing hope, just insisting that miracles and magic are real."

Hitomi considered. "You know, I didn't realize she believed in stuff like that, but when you say it, I'm not surprised at all. She's really never afraid to believe. It must be why she always tries to stand up for people and for doing the thing, even when it's not popular. I've always admired that about her." She paused a moment, and laughed. "I guess that's why she's always so stubborn, too."

. . . . .

"Those are fatal flaws for magical girls," noted Homura.

"Oh," said a disappointed Madoka, "...really?"

. . . . .

Hitomi held up her hand to the light, wiggling her own fingers. "You know, when I do it, no one calls it a miracle. Maybe we should. Maybe miracles are all around us, everywhere. Sunshine, rain, friends, family."

Kyosuke nodded. "Music."

"Definitely music."

"Is that what it really means to believe? To look around yourself every day, and just be thankful for everything that you have? If you can do that, I guess all the impossible things just make sense."

"I suppose so," he said, pondering. "Hey, Hitomi? Thanks for stopping by and helping me through all this."

He smiled. She smiled.

They said nothing. Actually, it was starting to get awkward.

"Oh, but speaking of impossible things, did you hear the really big news?"

"What's that?"

"Madoka and Sayaka decided to become allies of justice and protect Mitakihara City as a magical girl duo."

He considered for a moment, then laughed. "You mean Sayaka decided, and Madoka just came along to keep her company."

"Okay, okay, I might have just made that one up," she giggled.

"Well..." he stretched. "I guess I'll have to hurry up and get back to school, so I can follow their exploits firsthand."

Hitomi nodded. "You simply must!"

. . . . .

"I know I don't have any powers," said Madoka, "and I guess I'll probably end up just getting in your way, but... if you don't mind having me around, I'd like come with you. At least as far as you can take me."

Sayaka was grateful for the company.

. . . . .

She smiled as she headed out of the hospital. She was a little tired, and probably could have called a car -- actually, Papa would have preferred that -- but she wanted to be outside walking, and maybe even send a message: don't worry, Papa, I'm fine.

A lot of things had happened, and she was very uncertain, and out of her element, but there was something special about it all, too. She had seen a miracle, maybe more than one. In the midst of the little whirlwind she felt secure, and safe. Like when Papa's there to catch me in his arms. Or... even with that nice paramedic. Sho.

Was that just this morning? Wow. It feels like such a long time ago somehow. Still. He was cute. I guess you need to be a really nice guy to do that sort of job.

She mulled that one over for a while. Okay, well, it's absolutely impossible, and we'll probably never see each other again, but I might even just possibly have a small crush.

The warm light of the setting sun began to fade. Yes, there was something comforting about that thought, but it was bittersweet, too, like she was leaving something very precious behind.

She shook her head. But I suppose that as long as Madoka and Sayaka are together, it'll all be all right. I'm not sure if I'd be okay with it, if it were anyone else.

She carried this bittersweet feeling the rest of the way home. Maybe even this was a miracle, too.

. . . . .

The tall, handsome paramedic pulled out a picture card out of his wallet, and gently ran a finger over the girl's name printed on the bottom. Moriya Ririka -- cute girl, lovely photo. Had she missed it last night, after all that delicious fun? Would she have called it in as missing, on her day off? Maybe he'd just keep it as a souvenir, if that were the case.

He pressed the badge to the reader, and the door clicked open.

Best to get rid of it, then. Just as well. It wouldn't do to get too attached, that's just trouble down the line.

He entered the little room, found a likely looking cabinet, and took out a bottle. "All right," he said quietly through his mask, as he inspected its narcotic contents. "Payday."

. . . . .

She came home, and had her dinner, and gave her Mama a big hug and her Papa an even bigger one.

Upstairs, she attended to homework -- the math was tricky, but not too long, and her head start on English was mercifully rewarded, so she could at least catch up on sleep.

She took a short, cool shower, and put on her favorite nightgown, cool and smooth and silky with just a little ruffle around the neck, and she slipped behind the bed-curtains into the cool, clean cotton sheets to sleep. She ran her hand idly across the pillowcase, at the edge, along the embroidered green ruffle, just to feel its texture.

"Your room's really nice, Hitomi," said Madoka in bed beside her. "I feel really special just being here. Thanks." Her reddish-pink hair was down, spilling across a pillow-sham, and she was in a nightgown too, instead of the usual patterned pajama-suit. She reached over to Hitomi, to clasp her hand in her own --

But there was only a smooth, cool cotton sheet.

The absence of that warmth pulled at her, and she felt something in her chest, tugging on her heart. A single tear streamed down her cheek -- and this, too, was a most precious miracle.


	6. Chapter 6

While she was dreaming, Hitomi spoke to an angel.

It is slightly inaccurate to put it that way: misleading to call the being an angel, with the implications attached to the word, or to say that they spoke, and leave it at words, or sounds, or even communication. Rather, the two were the same; her dreaming, a communion with the soul, a physical incarnation of the process by which it sought to reason, to understand, to shape its destiny.

Using ordinary tenses with the eternal is likewise futile. Hitomi was dreaming; she dreams; she will always be dreaming. But there is (and always will be) a relationship between that eternal moment and certain points in a space-time manifold, and those points can be placed in a well-ordered sequence in all reference frames. In that shape, one could see a girl, sleeping in her bed in a place called Mitakahara, and one can speak of what she dreamed, a metaphor for the truth.

Hitomi, the girl, was in a place made of rough stone, and the angel sat on a wooden chair, with a loom and a spinning wheel beside her. She noted that the angel seemed bigger than she, and somehow very ancient; it was holding a distaff, as if in a painting from centuries past, collecting fibers, threads to be spun. In particular, she was trying to manage a terrible tangle.

See, it is a mess, and a huge mess, almost enough for for a simple garment by itself. The threads have been wound backwards, and have frayed again and again, and even where they are whole, blackened.

Perhaps it would be better simply to cut it off, start anew.

But the color, the luminous specks of rainbow light which fleck the darkness. Even pain would be precious, if it carried that light.

. . . . .

It was about two o'clock when she rose, restlessly, from bed, and softly made her way downstairs, though she wasn't quite sure what motive had brought her down there.

In the darkness, a voice called to her. "Hitomi?"

"Papa?" she asked.

"You're not sleepwalking, are you?"

"No," she replied, "I'm awake, I think."

"Is everything all right?" he asked. "Do you need to talk?" He turned on a low light, in the corner of the room.

She didn't say Yes, but she did walk over, and sat down next to him on the couch.

"What are you doing up so late?" she asked.

"I could ask the same thing", he noted.

She snuggled up and leaned her head on his shoulder. "I guess I can't really explain, but, it's sort of like deja vu. I thought maybe I'd find you waiting down here... even though I was surprised to find you down here."

"I see."

She said nothing, but she breathed in and out a few times, searching for words, searching for ... some kind of courage.

"My sweet little girl is growing up, and has fallen in love, and doesn't know what to do with herself," proposed Papa.

She considered that. "Maybe," she admitted.

A few more moments passed in silence.

"Is it someone I know?"

"Mmm," she said, and nodded her head yes.

"Is it a girl?"

Hitomi suddenly caught her breath, but she didn't say anything. Papa reached down to take her hand.

"But the love letters you were telling me about last week... those were all from boys. And you said that you didn't say that they were, but, they were."

Take deep breaths, she told herself.

"And it's a close friend, someone you talk about often. I've probably met her."

how do parents. how.

"It's Sayaka, isn't it?"

It seemed for a moment as if a spell had broken; Hitomi moved slowly, raising her head off her father's shoulder, and shook it No, gently.

He blinked a few times. "Oh. Oh, that's different. Not the tomboy, then... Madoka?"

Hitomi made a small, pathetic noise, and put her head down on Papa's lap, and tried to cry only a little.

Papa stroked her hair. "Ah, Hitomi, Hitomi, my little baby girl, she's not so little any more. She's growing up, and she's falling in love, and she's getting in trouble ... even if that last one's not really her fault, I guess."

"how," mumbled Hitomi.

"Hmm?" asked her father.

"am I just that transparent?"

He considered for a moment, gesturing to no one in particular with his free hand as he did so. "You're not that transparent. You just have a father who loves you, very dearly... and is also very, very good."

"Oh," she said.

"But," he added, "you should be careful. You know lots of ways to ask people things without asking them. You have little tricks you can use to influence how people feel, maybe even try to get your way. You probably learned most of them from your mother, and maybe a few from me too. They're not bad. They're not good. And you, to your credit, try and make peace, to people feel good, to urge people on to the best that they can be. But you need to be very careful, because even when people don't notice, they can almost always feel it on some level, and given enough time, they can learn to resent that feeling, and if you do it all the time, you get a reputation. So remember this. The Shizuki family name was not built on using clever tricks to get our way. It was built on a reputation for honesty and plain dealing."

He paused. "That means honesty with yourself, too. If you're not careful, if you don't know how to turn it off, you can find yourself putting on a face to the world that's not you, and you don't know how to take it off. And the point of this all that isn't to tell you that you need to be honest with your Papa, and tell him everything. The point is that you need to be honest with yourself."

He looked at her, but she wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

"Can you face your true feelings, Hitomi?"

She winced.

"Well?" Papa insisted.

"My t-true feelings, are ..." she stuttered, building up the courage to admit it, "are dirty, dirtier than I ever dreamed possible."

Papa tilted his head. "Oh. Oh, my goodness. Imagine that. It's almost as if my darling delicate baby girl is... going through puberty."

"P-Papa!"

"I know dear, I know," he said in a serious tone, "it heralds a change in our relationship. You're a woman now, and it would be inappropriate indeed for a married man of my age to speak of certain matters with you, doubly so should they involve another woman, especially when you are both so young. Far too many ways that I could take advantage of either of you. So we must grow more distant, my dear. If you need someone to speak with about all the things you dream of doing to that girl under the covers... you'll have to go and ask your Mama."

Hitomi's face was turning bright red.

"But you know, there is something that I can talk to you about, and I can and will tease you about, mercilessly. All for the right reasons, of course, to make sure you don't get the wrong sort of ideas in your head."

"What?" she asked.

"My dear little girl, I would have you tell me all the most exquisite detals, about..."

He paused for effect, then leaned down to whisper in her ear, and Hitomi tensed in fear.

"holding hands"

And with that, all her fear, and her tension, and her shame washed away, and she found herself defenseless, and small, and crying, but she was laughing too, and she was safe, and she held her Papa's hand, and smiled through the tears.

"Oh, P-Papa," she sputtered through the tearful laughter, as she began to recover, "you... you dirty old man," she teased back, playfully, "well if it's a scandal you want..."

And she told him of a dream, or maybe of a vision, or a memory, of stealing away to the ballet with a lovely girl, in the finest of fine dresses, and looking out over the Tokyo skyline, afraid but brave, and of holding hand in a soft, silken, sparkling elbow-length glove, and of nervously stepping out into the street to walk to the ballet. And he nodded, quietly, listening, and then he told her that it sounded like something very special.

"But how can you say that?" she asked him. "You're supposed to tell me all the serious things. About how I need to think about growing up and what I want to make of myself with my life, because it would basically ruin everything."

"Well, dear," he said, "it sounds like you already know to be thinking about that. And it's less important, and it's not the sort of thing that you figure out in one night anyway."

"I'm not sure I'll even get to figure it out at all," she said, quietly.

"You haven't talked with her about it?"

She shook her head no.

"You're not quite sure she likes you back the same way?"

She shook her head again.

"You're not even sure that she even likes girls that way," said Papa.

She took a deep breath.

"No, I think she likes Sayaka."

"Oh, Hitomi."

"And they've gotten really close, and you can tell that something's changed between them, and that it's changed them, but they're both really shy about it, and I can't even believe I'm telling you..."

He said nothing, but laid his hand on her shoulder.

"So when I came downstairs," she said, "and I said I felt deja vu, I wasn't even thinking of the parts where I wanted to run away with her. What I half-remembered was a different story. And it didn't make me feel any better. It made me feel a little worse. But it also made me feel like things could somehow be okay anyway."

"Hmm?"

She took her head from his lap, and sat back up against the sofa.

"Papa... tell me about the tomboy."

"Oh. I..., oh, sweetheart."

"I know," she said, "and I know I shouldn't even know to ask, and I don't even really know how I know..."

So her Papa told her a story about a girl her age who wasn't her Mama; the story of miss Yukari, a tomboy who would always wear roller skates everywhere, and wanted to save up to get a big tattoo on her arm, and sometimes snuck over to the high school to hang out with the older girls and talk them into giving her cigarettes; and how he never did understand why she ever took an interest in the shy, quiet boy in the class above her, except maybe that it was fun to get him in trouble.

"But what happened, Papa?" she asked.

"She went off to Heaven," he said, "and, well, I've fallen in love again since then -- first with your mother, and then, in an entirely different way, with you, and with feelings far deeper and more profound. But sometimes, I suppose, it seems like she must be watching over us."

"You... you never got over her," realized Hitomi. "And here I was thinking you'd say something about how to get over a broken heart, but you never got over it yourself. And you did fall in love again, but you still do small things, things no one else would know, just to remind yourself sometimes."

Her father nodded, quietly.

"Does Mama know?"

"Your mother knows I lost someone very dear to me when I was young."

Hitomi blinked, realizing something.

"Did you at least tell Mama her name?"

Papa hesitated.

"Oh, Papa. Oh, I -- Oh, I don't even know where to start. Oh, in the name of -- in the name of Yukari Hitomi..."

"... darling," he began, "I'm not sure what you're trying to say, but if you worry I suffer the least bit of confusion --"

"You know what I think," interrupted Hitomi, standing up, "is that she would want you to change your passwords, and at least use her birthday, and not the day she died. June sixteenth, Papa? Honestly."

"I'll have you know the sixteenth is also the day I met your mother," said Papa, "and later, the day that I proposed to her. And what have you been doing poking around with other people's passwords, anyway?"

Take deep breaths, she reminded herself.

"I haven't so much as touched them," declared Hitomi, righteously, "They were given to me in a dream, or something, since you ask. When I ran away to Tokyo."

"Is that so, now," said Papa.

"Like when you told me about her the... first time."

He didn't reply to that.

She was maing a face, trying her best to be grumpy, and annoyed, but a smile kept wavering up around the sides of her mouth. In its own way, really, it was almost as funny as all that about holding hands. Oh, why did it have to ruin the moment like that? She sighed.

"Papa, I'm... actually quite annoyed with you right now, but ... it still meant... it meant an awful lot to me, to be able talk to you like this, with everything you said, and especially the way you said it, okay? So th-- thank you."

She was dangerously close to tears, so she turned her back and started to head back upstairs, before she paused in the door, with her back to him.

"And I don't know if she's really watching over me, but I feel like someone must be. And," she swallowed, "I love you, Papa."

"I love you too, dear one."

"We should talk again soon, okay?"


	7. Chapter 7

Hitomi looked at the face in the mirror as if it were a stranger.

"You can find yourself putting on a face to the world that's not you, and you don't know how to take it off."

Just how bad am I at really being myself, anyway? she wondered. For that matter, what did that 'self' even mean? Shizuki Hitomi, named after some skater punk who passed away twenty-some-odd years ago, because Papa, of all people, couldn't get over her. Or didn't want to.

She'd had surreal dreams again last night. She had a skateboard, which was ridiculous, because she didn't even know how to operate it, and kept rolling around at low speeds while crouching down, and bumping into things. It was harmless, but frustrating. But then she had gotten stuck on a web of clothes lines strung high above the ground in the blue blue sky, trying to skateboard away from a spider monster with human arms and no head. Her dreams always make a lot of sense, but that last part had been particularly freakish. She tried to shake the image from her mind.

At least Papa never tried to push me into roller skating, she allowed.

Would I have liked skating? she wondered, walking downstairs. Is that really supposed to be who I am, and I'm just denying it?

Maybe ice skating, more than roller skating...

"Good morning, Mama," she said, entering the kitchen. Mama was standing by the counter, prepping some vegetables; rice, and miso soup, were waiting for her for breakfast, warm.

"Good morning, dear," said Mama, "did your have a nice talk with your Papa last night?"

It's none of your business, she thought to herself.

"Yeah. I was worried about school, and couldn't sleep, and he made me feel better about things," she said. Vague, generically true excuse. "I'm sure it will all work out."

I wonder what he was doing, though? He never did say why he was sitting alone in the dark, she realized.

"He talked some sense into you, then?" asked Mama. "That's good. We were starting to worry."

"I'm not quite sure what you mean," she replied.

She really wasn't. Evading. Soliciting details.

"Well," said Mama, "just remember, your Papa and I will always love you, and part of loving you means that we want what's best for you, and that doesn't always mean what feels good in the here and now. You need to use your head and your heart."

Mama and Papa aren't really on the same page here, she realized. She hesitated, thinking of something to say in reply.

"Now, remember," Mama continued, "you're only in middle school. I know that's exactly when you start to go crazy, and that's the reason that you need to be careful, or you could get hurt. You have plenty of time to decide exactly what to with your career, and find a cute boy, and start building a life for yourself, and all that."

"Mama, this really isn't what I talked about with Papa at all," said Hitomi, simply.

"Well, all the more reason we can talk about it now. Listen. If you've found a really cute girl, and want to have a little fun while you're young..."

"... Mama," interrupted Hitomi, "first of all, I haven't found any a cute girl, but second, the last time I said anything like that idea, you said I shouldn't even joke about it. Why have things chang-- Oh. This is because of the other night, isn't it? You two worried I was in trouble and now you're going out of your way to be accommodating. Oh, wow, I -- I'm not even sure what to say to that."

Her mother held up a hand and gestured for her to stop. "Now, dear, it's nothing like that at all."

"Mother, I'm afraid I'm a little offended."

"Hitomi, dear," said her Mama, a little sharply, "are you charging me with hypocrisy? Please. This is the voice of experience. Well, I suppose I shouldn't really blame you; reality is seldom as neat as one would like it."

"Experience?" said Hitomi, annoyed. "Well, I really must confess, I haven't heard you speak of any special knowledge in such matters."

Her mother abruptly stopped chopping halfway through a carrot, and for a moment, Hitomi was afraid she'd gone too far, and that her mother was about to lecture her about talking back. But then Mama stepped back from the counter with an impish grin on her face, and turned to face her, and patted her hands together with just a bit of excitement.

What did I just call down upon myself?

"Well you see, dearest, when I was just a young girl, a little bit older than you, I used to have the most wonderful of times with a cute girl your age. You couldn't even imagine the sort of trouble we'd got in together. I had a reputation like you wouldn't believe. They gossiped about me roller skating naked through the halls all the way to Kazamino City. Oh, and when we could head off alone together... oh, it was sinfully delightful."

Hitomi covered her mouth, which was agape.

...I thought Papa was teasing, when he said I should ask her.

Mama took in the look on her face, then closed her eyes for a moment, reminiscing.

"Believe me, dear, I know in the most exquisite detail exactly what sort of trouble a girl your age can get up to, and I've lived through the consequences as well. If I try my best to steer you away from certain things, well, I've been there, done that, and wouldn't particularly wish that kind of angst and heartbreak on you."

Mama turned back to the counter, and picked up the knife she'd placed down before.

"I'm ... I'm not sure what you're getting at specifically, Mother," said Hitomi. She really didn't.

"Well, two things. First, I'm just trying to make sure you're not too uptight about things," said Mama. She turned back to face Hitomi, still holding the knife, waving it around to make points in the conversation. It was am unsettling effect. "Don't be uptight about enjoying cute girls, and don't be too uptight about boys either. They're not all gross. Some of them are nice like your father."

Hitomi just looked at the pointy knife skeptically.

"Secondly, in balance with that, you should be careful. It only takes one incident to change the way people at school think about you forever. Just, use your head, and avoid scandal. Under no circumstances is the administration to inform me of any Escapades."

"Mama!" said Hitomi. "Please be careful with the knife!"

"Oh!" she exclaimed, "I'm sorry, dear." She finally applied the knife to the rest of the vegetables.

"And I'm not even in a relationship!" said Hitomi.

Mama blinked. "Well, then, if you ever are," she continued, waving the knife again, "just keep it in mind as advice."

"Well, then, Mama," she said, "I'm sorry. I've misjudged you."

"You're not too shocked, I hope," said Mama, and it seemed like teasing.

"Well, I guess you weren't the sweet girl I assumed you were," said Hitomi. It's a little uncomfortable._

Mama chuckled. "Oh, no.... but then neither was she. Ah, it's like they say. The candle that burns twice as bright, you know."

Something clicked. roller skating naked through the hall...

"Oh," said Hitomi. "Oh no."

"Oh, no, what? Oh, you figured it out, your parents are people who've had sex. It's a pretty scary idea, I know, but if you think about it --"

"Mother. You didn't."

"What exactly didn't I?"

"Does Papa know?"

"Dear, not only does your Papa know I dated a girl, I went out of my way to teach him all the tricks that we discovered together."

Hitomi's face turned red. "That's not what I meant!"

"Then what?"

There's no way.

"Did you at least tell him her name?"

Mama hesitated for a moment too long.

"Oh, Mama, you're joking. You and Papa set this up."

"What? What did your father tell you?"

"... I'm sorry. I can't deal with this right now, I just can't," said Hitomi, setting down a half eaten breakfast and picking up her bento. "Go ask him yourself!"

. . . . .

My life is a joke, and the joke is on me. It's like the plot of the stupidest romance movie ever, except those two apparently somehow managed it. There's even a title. "Oh, for the love of Yukari Hitomi."

She stood beneath a tree, at the spot she usually waited for the others, and took deep breaths until Madoka arrived.

"Oh, good morning, Hitomi," said Madoka.

"Good morning to you too, Madoka!" she replied, trying to sound cheerier than she actually was. "How are you? I feel like we haven't talked too much lately."

Madoka nodded, tiredly. "Yeah, I know, I'm sorry."

She took note of the time. "It's a little late already -- do you know if Sayaka's coming?"

"I don't know," said Madoka, "I think she ... might be staying home today."

"Oh. Were you two out late? You sound pretty tired yourself."

"Maybe a little."

They walked along the path together. Madoka was quiet, maybe even downright glum.

"You two have been spending a lot of time together," noted Hitomi.

"Yeah," admitted Madoka, "I, uh, I shouldn't really talk about it though..."

"Well, I just hope she's all right," said Hitomi. "You're not fighting or anything, are you?"

"No, it's not like that," replied Madoka. "It's just, well..." She paused. "I really shouldn't say anything, but, I guess she kinda made a big decision, without knowing everything it would mean. So she was pretty happy about it for a while, but then the bad stuff just sort of hit her all at once."

"Oh," said Hitomi. I wonder what her mother told her.

"I think in her heart she still thinks it's the right thing, but it's still really tough for her, so if you do see her, try to be extra nice, okay?"

"... Oh. Oh, of course, Madoka."

Hitomi was impressed. She's a very good person. Discreet, but kind, and caring. They must be under a lot of pressure, though.

The thing I worry about with Sayaka, mused Hitomi, is that she can get really enthusiastic and excited about doing something... which is usually good, but when she gets in over her head... well, she can feel stuck and properly frightened.

There was an incident that came to mind, a few years back, at the swimming pool. They had been jumping the pool with ever more elaborate twists and splashes, until Sayaka announced that she would outdo them all and go off the high dive. She had climbed up, a determined grin across her face, walked to the edge... and just froze. They'd called out to her to jump down, at first, then Madoka had told her it was okay and she could go back, but even then, she was just too scared to move. The lifeguard had to climb up and coax her back down.

If she's really missing school over it, it might be bad.

. . . . .

"Miss Shizuki?" asked the principal, with some surprise. "That's quite extraordinary. I don't think she was even absent the next day, was she? I'd have noticed if her name was on the list."

"I'm impressed," said Ikari, "do you know all your students this well?"

"Detectives," he explained, "Miss Shizuki's family is not only a pillar of the community, but the young woman herself is an exemplary honor student with a perfect attendance record. There's a little joke on the faculty, about the only reason she's not student council president: it's because our school doesn't elect a student council. I expect that if she attends Mitakihara High School, she's quite likely to be valedictorian."

"All the more reason for concern, then," said Mitsuhiro.

"Well, then, gentlemen, how can I be of assistance?"

"To start with, Miss Shizuki said she thought she saw a classmate on the scene. We called immediately, but her parents reported that she was safe at home. We've since obtained evidence that suggests there might have been another student on the scene, and we're trying to follow up."

He considered. "So, are you looking for things like school photos, lists of recent absences, things like that? I can send you some of our student records, print you out some photos..."

"That would be ideal. Thank you."

"Also..." He paused. "Well, hopefully it's nothing, but there is one student who's been absent since just before the incident."

"That's disconcerting," said Mitsuhiro.

"Tomoe Mami," he said, pulling up the record. "A troubling case; she lost both of her parents not too long ago. Her discipline record is clean, but her teachers say she's a real loner, her grades are well below her potential. She's clearly struggling. Her attendance record is so spotty that if she didn't have a waiver, on account of her parents' deaths, she'd be failing all her classes."

"Aw, geez," said Ikari. "We'll see if we can pay a visit."

. . . . .

"Well, the trash looks like it's been left for days," said Ikari, closing the lid in disgust. "I suppose we should check with several of the neighbors to be sure..."

"Sure. But is there really a connection, or is this just a coincidence?" asked Mitsuhiro.

Something caught Ikari's eye. "Hold on a moment," he said, walking over to the table.

"School notes?" asked Mitsuhiro.

Ikari picked up a notebook from the table. There was a pencil sketch of a little girl on the cover, and it was mostly blank inside, save for a two-page spread near the front full of sketches. He regarded it skeptically.

"It seems our Miss Tomoe was an artist."

Mitsuhiro looked. "Was she?"

"Come on, it's not that bad. By middle school standards, anyway."

"No," said Mitsuhiro, "hold on a moment, go back to the cover. Yeah. I don't think Tomoe is the artist, I think it's the girl on the cover."

"Huh," said Ikari. "You're right. And our artist gives herself the colored pencils."

Mitsuhiro took out a folded piece of paper from his jacket pocket, a printout of Shizuki Hitomi's homeroom class. He found what he was looking for immediately.

"Would you believe it," asked Mitsuhiro, "if I told you that that our artist might just be the same girl we didn't find at the scene?"

"What?" He looked over to the paper. "What the hell."

"You think maybe she's the one who placed the call, too?"

He considered. "Maybe. I don't know. I mean, it could just be a coincidence; they do go to the same school. We really should have tried to see if someone can voice-ID the tape... what, what's the matter?"

Ikari had been making a face.

"You ever work a school case before? It's delicate; if you go in asking hard questions, the rumor mill starts grinding. All the kids are afraid you want to read their yearbook notes and get them in trouble for playing hooky, and the teachers go all protective, the parents all get upset that you're treating their perfect angels as a suspect. Especially at a fancy school like that."

"I dunno," said Mitsuhiro. "but finding out who our mystery caller is still seems more important than a missing-student case."

Ikari considered. "I'd still feel a lot better if we weren't showing everyone our best evidence. We've got a few fresh leads here, and they smell like the same sort of weirdness we've looking at."

"Really?"

"Call it a hunch," said Ikari.

Mitsuhiro considered. "Well, it still doesn't feel right, but I'm not sure I'd like to bet against one of your hunches, either. Sure. Let's make Kaname Madoka a person of interest."

. . . . .

Hitomi had to get to a piano lesson. That much would be okay. It was the part when she got home that worried her.

I wonder if they'll say anything to each other, she considered. Of course, Papa would have been at work most of the day, and would only get home about the same time as she did. So maybe not.

"It was good hanging out," said Madoka. "Sorry that things have been so weird lately."

It was just the cafe at the mall, and they had mostly worked on schoolwork. Madoka was a little behind, on the English especially, which was always easier for Hitomi to do than to explain. Still, it was good to spend time with her.

"I'm just glad you're feeling better," said Hitomi.

"Yeah. Thanks a lot for the help."

"A pleasure." She smiled. "Tell Sayaka I said hello, okay?"

"Okay!" said Madoka.

You know, come to think of it, realized Hitomi, that's a almost little indiscreet of her, thought Hitomi. But I guess Sayaka is in good hands.

. . . . .

"How was practice, dear?"

Practice was gloriously distracting, Mama.

"Oh. I'm very sorry, Mother, but as a matter of principle I'm not talking to you until you've talked with Father," she said, "and vice versa."

Her mother considered for a moment, before settling on insincere praise. "Oh. Oh my, could my little angel be entering the rebellious teenager phase, after all these years? How splendid. You really are growing up."

A dangerously effective tactic, considered Hitomi, but I think I can take the upper hand...

"I really must insist," said Hitomi. "I think it's actually really important, because it's about me, and you're both offering your guidance and support, but you are not on the same page at all, and it makes me genuinely uncomfortable," she explained.

Honesty and plain dealing. In the name of justice and peace, or something.

"Oh," said Mama. "Well, I'm sorry. Your papa said he'd be running late, so I suppose I'll have a word with him this evening. You don't need to be like that about it, though," she chided.

Hitomi smiled, as she made her way upstairs. "Practice was gloriously distracting, Mama."

Well, that went better than expected, she thought as she entered her room.

Maybe she'd have a peaceful evening after all.

. . . . .

Besides, she reasoned to herself, watching the clock creep past midnight, the idea of someone somehow inheriting traits from their namesake doesn't really work. There's no scientific mechanism for that sort of thing within the name.

Then again, miracles and magic were real.

And honestly, for a moment, I'd forgotten. How could I have let that happen?

She rolled over to face away from the clock, and sighed to herself.

Under no circumstances whatsoever am I going to name my daughter Shizuki Madoka, in loving memory.

That name doesn't even make sense, noted another part of her inner monologue. It wouldn't be Shizuki. Unless we were very modern about it, and I don't think Papa would be on board.

...No Kamijou Madoka, either then.

Kamijou??

"Don't be too uptight about boys, either," she recalled her mother saying. "They're not all gross. Some of them are nice..."

She sighed, and flopped back over. This didn't help her to sleep, either.


	8. Walpurga's Night, Tokyo Aftermath

There was a terrible noise, like an earthquake, or a building collapsing, and Hitomi awoke.

She was in bed. She wasn't quite sure if she was awake, or dreaming, or maybe even just remembering, but her heart was beating rapidly. Had she just awoken from a nightmare? Where was she? This wasn't her bed...

A lighter noise, a gentle padding of feet, caught her attention, and she turned her head to its source. Madoka was treading lightly, wearing her pajamas and bunny slippers. She'd been outside. It must have been the noise of the door that had woken her, the solid double-click of a hotel lock.

 _That's right, it was a sleepover ... of sorts. Except with a little more high speed rail, and more Tokyo, and performances of_ Coppelia.

"... Madoka?" asked Hitomi.

"Ssh!" said Madoka, placing a finger to her lips. "I have a surprise."

"... Huh?" asked Hitomi, yawning. "Isn't it a little late for surprises?" She glanced over to the alarm clock, red seven-segment LEDs beside the bed, but it was blinking midnight.

"I know. May I show you anyway?" asked Madoka.

"... Okay," said Hitomi, sitting up. "What's the surprise?"

"Close your eyes," said Madoka.

"... Okay, sure," said Hitomi.

"And keep them closed," said Madoka. "Don't peek, okay?"

Hitomi nodded.

She heard Madoka come close, felt her sit down on the bed, and reach behind her; she felt something on her face.

"... Madoka, what?"

"Blindfold," said Madoka. "Don't peek."

"Okay," said Hitomi. She was skeptical, honestly. _But I suppose after all I asked her to do this afternoon, it's only fair._

"Now stand up," instructed Madoka. "Put on your slippers, they're right here."

"... What? We're not going somewhere, are we?" asked Hitomi.

"Mmm-hmm!" affirmed Madoka, "You only have to play along if you want to, but trust me, it'll be worth it, okay?"

"... but I'm in my nightgown," objected Hitomi. _The school uniform, or the evening gowns, wouldn't those be better?_

"It's okay, no one will see. Come on," said Madoka, taking her hand, as Hitomi felt the warmth. "You've done so much for me already. Let me have a turn. Trust me, okay?"

Hitomi found her heart fluttering. What was it that Homura had said? Something about the importance of transgression? Heading outside in one's nightgown certainly was, a little, but there was something more than that here. Obedience? Trust? Surrender?

"All right," said Hitomi. "As the lady Madoka commands."

Madoka giggled. "Perfect!"

. . . . .

They had gone down a hallway, and down an elevator, then into a stairwell, and out a door to outside. The night was warm and pleasant, but Hitomi was nervous. Excited, but nervous. Her heart fluttered.

"Watch the curb," said Madoka. "Hold on... Okay, it's safe to cross."

"M-Madoka, we - we shouldn't really be outside in our pajamas," insisted Hitomi.

"It's okay. Nobody's seen us. I promise," replied Madoka. "But we can turn back if you want to."

Hitomi was a little disoriented. It was a strange city, and she couldn't see where she was going, and the only place she really knew the way to get to was the theater, where they'd seen the ballet before. It half seemed like they might be going that way, and it half seemed like she was totally lost.

Madoka led her through what must have been a loading dock of some sort, with an electric hum, a bit of an echo, and a funny orange light that she could make out at the edges of the blindfold. Beyond it, a dimly lit hallway. Finally, they stopped.

"Okay, in here. Go on ahead slowly," said Madoka.

Hitomi stepped in, and Madoka let go of her hand, and the door creaked closed behind her.

"... Madoka?"

"Okay, you can take off the blindfold now," said Madoka. Was she on the other side of the door?

Hitomi tugged at it a bit; it came off easily enough and she looked around. It was a small room, with a large mirror, and lights around the mirror. On the floor were ballet shoes, and on a stand in the corner was a costume.

"... Madoka, what is this?"

"Dressing room, silly!" said Madoka, with a giggle.

"Dressing room?"

"For the ballet!"

"... But how? Why?"

"Put it on," said Madoka. "I promise it will be okay."

Hitomi looked around her. "How did we even get in?"

"Magic!" said Madoka.

"Magic?"

"You have _your_ secret tricks," declared Madoka, "and I have mine, and now it's my turn."

"M - Madoka," stuttered Hitomi, her heart fluttering again. "But... but this is... this is different!"

"It's not even half as scary as getting on a bullet train when you don't know where it's going," said Madoka. "I was afraid too, but it was exciting, and I trusted you, and it was a whole lot of fun. Come on. I've got a lot more to show you; we're just getting started."

Hitomi tried the door handle, but it wouldn't quite open.

"Uh-uh," said Madoka, "you gotta try it on!"

"... There's no way it'd even fit me," objected Hitomi.

"It'll be fine," insisted Madoka.

So Hitomi stepped over to look at the costume.

"This isn't even Coppelia," she said in realization, "this is... I think this is Swan Lake! How ..."

"I cheated!" said Madoka. "More magic, obviously."

_Well... all right._

Hitomi gave in, and started to change. She folded her nightgown neatly, and started putting on the costume.

"... Madoka," she said, "these are the wrong shoes. They're _pointe_ shoes. I cannot dance _en pointe_. I could break my feet."

"Just wear them, then," said Madoka. "You don't have to do pointe in them if you don't want to, okay?"

"... okay," replied Hitomi,

She wasn't quite sure how she got the back of the outfit laced, or how she got Odette's crown to stay in her hair. It was as if they had done up themselves while she wasn't looking. It was like ... magic. Should she question it? Maybe Madoka wasn't even kidding.

Soon enough, she was done, and she heard a little _click_ at the door.

"Madoka?"

There was no reply.

She tried the door now, and it was open. She stepped out into a dimly lit hallway, lined with other dressing rooms, but the door ajar at the end led to somewhere bright. A practice room? Mirrors lined the wall. There was a mirror in the dressing room too, and it had served mostly to embarrass her, but with a greater distance, the effect was stronger.

"... Wow. This is... this is very pretty, Madoka..."

Giggles, echoing all around her, were the only reply.

Hitomi tried a few warm-ups, posed. First position. Second position. Raised her right leg. Lowered it. Then, she gazed in the mirror thoughtfully for a moment, hesitating.

It was pretty special. _Oh, Madoka._

The Hitomi in the mirror moved, looking down, smiling, holding her hands in front of her in the mime for Love.

A chill ran up Hitomi's spine. Was she imagining things? But Madoka had said it was magic...

A very fluttery feeling rose in her heart, and the Hitomi in the mirror shivered, and Hitomi herself shivered, and before she knew what was happening she was up on her tip-toes, just fluttering slightly _en pointe_ , just as if she were dancing the part of Odette, and the pure white tutu quivered with every movement.

She was a little alarmed, though less at the thought that she had moved against her own volition, and more that she might hurt her feet. Pointe shoes were serious business; one was never meant to put so much weight on her toes, and so you needed to practice a lot to build up the muscles and the endurance to make it actually safe. And Hitomi was just beginning the intermediate class in dance...

 _You don't have to do pointe in them if you don't want to,_ echoed Madoka's voice faintly like a distant whisper, as Hitomi looked at herself in the mirror. But... she wanted to. She couldn't deny it. It was an absolutely terrible idea, but in her heart, she wanted to.

A whirl of motion caught her eye, as a figure came from around the corner, pirouetting as it went, and posed behind her.

"... Madoka?" asked a shocked Hitomi. And it was Madoka, posing behind her, visible in the mirror, striking a pose, one hand raised above her head. But it was a Madoka she had never imagined before. She wore black, from her shoes to her tights, her tutu and corset, a little pair of gloves, the ribbon in her hair.

"Dance with me, my dear Hitomi," said the black swan. And it was Madoka's voice, but it was low, and it was sensuous, and it was full of desire.

Hitomi searched for words. She couldn't find words. She couldn't even find thoughts. Her heart was pounding too fast. But the dark Madoka came up behind her, and gently spun Hitomi around to face her, to gaze into her eyes.

"M-... Mad-..." began Hitomi, fruitlessly. Eye shadow. Madoka had _eye shadow_ , and regarded Hitomi with unafraid, undisguised desire.

The dark swan quickly pressed a finger against Hitomi's lips, and shushed her -- then, following that preamble, she leaned in, and pressed her own lips.

The white swan and the black swan danced. What remained of Hitomi's shattered wits was astounded at the dance, a _pas de deux_ out of legend, perhaps out of myth. There were precise and fluid pirouettes, there were implausible jumps, there were sequences when Hitomi raised her right foot straight up in the air, her left on the ground as a pivot as she leaned far back and the dark Madoka held her, regarded her: lovingly, longingly, hungrily, her smile beautiful and terrible.

Hitomi was not ready. How could she be ready? She was just in intermediate dance. Her feet protested in agony, her muscles and tendons were shot through with pain, but her heart cried just as loudly in fear, the fear that it might end...

Finally, as she landed a jump, there was a sickening _crunch,_ and she toppled over. She had broken something in her right foot, and hurt her wrist catching herself, and lay sprawled on the ground.

What had happened around her? The theater looked out on the night as if the roof had come off, and several of the walls besides. This was a disaster area. A pile of cars had crashed into each other, up against an overturned truck, and some of them were burning. There was a boat in a parking lot. She could see the outline of the downtown skyline, but not in the dazzling lights of the city -- in silhouettes against the dull glow of flames.

Dark tights and dark shoes stepped over her head, and into her vision.

"Don't look at that," said Madoka. "Look at me, instead."

"M-- Madoka," she breathlessly intoned. "I -- I can't dance anymore, I'm broken..." It was probably really, really bad. She'd need to go to the hospital, and might need a wheelchair for weeks, and then crutches... if she were lucky, there would be crutches...

"What do you want to do?" asked the dark Madoka, and Hitomi's wide eyes stared into hers. She crouched down next to Hitomi, offered the fallen girl a hand.

Hitomi took her hand, and, with her help, trembling, stood.

Madoka paused a moment, gently running her black-gloved hand along Hitomi's purest white feathers.

 _what do I_ want _to do_

The dance resumed, and every step was wreaked through with both agony and ecstasy. _I want it to go on forever_ , thought the broken girl. _No matter how badly I break, no matter how much it hurts. Just let me have this with Madoka, forever..._

Were there other dancers now? It didn't matter. The only one she needed to see was with her. The rest was unimportant. So much of her life had been unimportant. She had been saved from that. It was going to be better now. Thank goodness. What was her life like before, anyway? Had she been a girl or a swan? It was hard to tell. It didn't matter in the end.

Then, without warning, they danced off the end of Time itself, and the world dissolved around them, and she was falling, falling through infinite space, and Madoka was gone from her arms, and --

. . . . .

She gasped, suddenly, as she woke up. Where was she? Who was she? She was a bird, a white bird with a foreign name, it had started with an O. Or was she a girl after all? Where was Madoka? This was all too much! She wasn't breathing properly, her breaths were too shallow, too hurried, her heart was pounding, pounding, and it hurt; she tried to breathe, tried to take deep breaths, but she couldn't think, she needed more air --

not enough air

she passed out again, on her own bed, into unconsciousness

. . . . .

The girl awoke. Or, at least, she was conscious of being in her own bed; she wasn't quite sure if she was awake, or dreaming, or maybe even just remembering.

The voice spoke, as if in her head, but also from a place nearby.

"Shizuki Hitomi."

_i'm sorry, Hitomi doesn't know who she is right now_

"You hold a secret in your heart," it said.

She opened an eye and looked over to the source.

"You dream of something that is impossible for you to have," said the small white creature.

Her heart beat quickly again. _how do you know, no one knows_

"The longing in your heart is very strong," it said, flicked its tail back and forth, "which is how I found you. I can help you, Hitomi. I can truly make your dreams come true."

"What ... what do you know about my dreams?" whispered Hitomi.

"You are in love, Shizuki Hitomi, and very badly so. The signs are quite clear, so there's no use denying it. And you are struggling with what it means."

Hitomi said nothing.

"Your struggle need not be in vain, Hitomi. Your best friend, Kaname Madoka, the love of your life, ... If it is what you truly desire, her love and affections can be yours."

_what do YOU know about Madoka, you ... thing ..._

"Miki Sayaka is struggling under the burden of her emotions. I have spoken with her at length. She would be happier if that burden were lifted! They both would welcome it. Hitomi, I can promise, all three of you would be far better friends for it, sharing closer bonds with each other than ever before."

_No. That wouldn't be right._

"Madoka would be happy to fall in love with you, Hitomi. It wouldn't be an imposition on her will in the slightest. You'd just be making sure that things work out, that you can still have a happy future together, one where you need never be ashamed of each other."

She glared at the creature.

"No one would think any less of you. Your papa would be _glad_ to see the two of you together, if it made you happy. Your Mama would allow it, if he asked her to. Even Yukari Hitomi would be proud of your love, Hitomi, if she could see it. All you need to do is make a contract with me, and --"

The wretched girl in the bed had given the creature a firm kick, and he flew off the bed and into the room with a _thud_. The commotion dislodged the bed curtains, which fluttered down and closed, obscuring her view of the room.

"Don't you speak of my precious Madoka like she's some... thing, to be manipulated, you freakish rat," she said, seething with hatred. _"Go away."_

The darkness said nothing back.

She blinked her eyes a few times, uncertain. Was it gone?

Was it a dream? Had it ever really been there at all?


	9. I want to talk about love.

"Good morning, Mama," she said, in a daze. "Good morning, Papa."

"Good morning, sweetheart," replied Mama, attending to the stove.

"Good morning," said Papa, who was setting out some dishes. "Did you sleep well?"

"No," said Hitomi. "I had bad dreams." She walked over to her Papa, to give him a hug.

"Aww," he said, putting down the dishes, and kissing her gently on the forehead. "I'm sorry to hear that."

She nuzzled up against him. "It's okay, Papa. Thanks." She smiled.

He ran his fingers through her hair gently as he let her go, and smiled.

"Well then," said Mama, "let's get you a good breakfast so you can face the day, then, shall we?"

Hitomi nodded, scooting over to the table. "Okay. Thank you, Mama."

"Oh. That reminds me," said Mama, placing several dishes down on the table, "your Papa got in rather late last night, so I didn't get a chance to discuss anything with him."

"Hmm? What's this now?" asked Papa. "I'm here right now. We can talk about anything you like."

Oh. She'd almost forgotten.

"I'm not so sure," said Hitomi --

"It's about girls, obviously," said Mama.

Please, not now.

"No. No, it really isn't," replied Hitomi. "It's about the secrets people keep from the ones they love."

"You're all worried about what people will think," declared Mama. "Trust me, it's perfectly fine, at your age. Just don't you go thinking you're getting out of tea ceremony lessons this afternoon."

"... I don't even have tea ceremony lessons this afternoon --" began Hitomi.

"Well, that's not the point," said Mama, waving the large kitchen knife around once more. "The point is -- you're a good girl, people know that, and if I'm going to hear gossip from Mrs. Mikuni about the young Lady Shuzuki's youthful indiscretions, you know, I'd much rather it be with a cute girl in her class than some older boy with a motorcycle and a leather jacket who smokes and has a record as a juvenile delinquent."

Take deep breaths, Hitomi, she told herself.

"Mother dearest," she said, deliberately, eyeing the knife, "I'm not entirely sure how to reply to that. I -- I did not intend for this conversations to be about girls, nor am I in a relationship with one, and yet nevertheless, I find myself offended."

"Hitomi?" began father. "Would you like --"

"Youthful indiscretion?" she interrupted. "You think it's all -- You think I'm just in a phase. You tolerate the idea of me being in love with a girl because you think it won't last, but at the end of the day the most important thing is that I need to keep going to tea ceremony lessons."

"Dear, please, calm down," said Papa.

"I will -- I will not calm down, Papa. I'm sorry. This is -- Mama, this is belittling. No, it's degrading. Do my emotions mean so little? Are they not valid at all? Have you considered for half a second that if I was in a relationship, that I might take it seriously as more than just-- Oh," she realized. "No. You just assumed I'm the exact same as you, that I'm going to go off and have a little harmless fling and that twenty years later I'll just be laughing about it. I don't even know where to begin, but I've never been so offended in my life."

"... Hitomi, my darling angel," began Papa, "please --"

"NO!" she screamed, standing up, and leaning over her table at her father. "Don't call me that! Don't you ever call me that again! I'm my own person, okay? I am not my mother, I am not my father, I am not just going to calm down, and I don't care what freakish, unresolved issues that both you two seem to have with her, but I am as sure as Hell not Yukari Hitomi."

Her papa looked at her with the widest eyes she'd ever seen, and trembled slightly, and Hitomi hesitated. Had she gone too far? Maybe she should back off apologize --

"Hitomi!" said her mother, pointing the large knife at her and shaking it for emphasis. "Calm yourself this instant."

Hitomi stared once more at the knife.

I can't deal with this. I can't deal with any of this.

She snatched up the bowl of miso soup from the table, chugged it all at once in a most unladylike fashion, and slammed it back down on the table, grabbing her school bag and walking out the door without her lunch.

. . . . .

After the adrenaline rush came the crash, the doubt, self-loathing, kicking herself for losing her temper.

It would be fine, she told herself; it would all be fine. Even if Mama's this way about it, it would be fine, because, well, there wasn't anything between her and Madoka anyway, now, was there? Not really.

Deep breaths, Hitomi.

She was very, very early to meet Madoka, and had time to regain her composure. She really, really didn't want to explain, not to Sayaka, and certainly not to Madoka.

She'd take deep breaths. She'd maintain her composure, hide it all from the world, hide it from herself.

Her Papa's voice echoed in her memory. Can you face your true feelings, Hitomi?

Someday, Papa. When I'm not exhausted.

. . . . .

Sayaka was back today, and it was good to see her again, but Madoka wasn't quite her usual cheery self.

"Good morning, Sayaka," said Hitomi, politely. "How are you?"

"H-hey," replied Sayaka, "Good morning."

"Why didn't you come to school yesterday?" asked Hitomi.

She immediately regretted it a little. Too direct. She's going through some really hard times right now. Her problems are probably even tougher than mine.

"Oh, um, I felt a little sick, is all," replied Sayaka.

Hitomi nodded quietly. You're not really okay either, Sayaka, but you're doing your best to fake it, aren't you. She considered. Maybe that's okay for now. Maybe if you have a little space, it'll even help make things better.

I wish I could reach out and help.

Sayaka looked to Madoka's eyes for reassurance, as the group walked on, and Madoka seemed to cheer up as well.

But I can't help you, not really. What you really need is Madoka's affection, not mine.

"Hey, I got an idea," posited Sayaka. "How about we go and..."

She stopped, suddenly, staring across the way.

"Oh," said Hitomi, noticing the figure walking there. "I didn't know Kyousuke was out of the hospital."

Madoka's tentative smile escaped her face.

Now what is this about? wondered Hitomi.

. . . . .

"Kamijou-san!"

"Hey, Hitomi! What's up?"

"Well, you're back, of course. What else?"

Kamijou chuckled. "Well, I guess I am the man of the hour."

"I was just wondering," she said, "Do you need any help with lunch? I can go downstairs to get you some, if you'd like, and save you a trip."

"Oh, thanks," said Kamijou, "but isn't it out of your way?"

"Oh, no, it's no bother," said Hitomi. "I actually forgot to bring a lunch today."

"All right," he chuckled, "but I'm surprised. It's not like you to be forgetful!"

"Well, I get to have my off days too," declared Hitomi.

"Yeah," said Kamijou. "I guess we all do. Maybe off months, in my case."

She smiled. "I'll be back in a bit, then."

He nodded. "I'll be up here talking to everyone. Thanks a lot, Hitomi."

She felt better after talking to him. At least she was helping somebody today.

. . . . .

Sayaka spent much of her lunch awkwardly glancing, and occasionally staring, in Kyousuke's direction. Neither she nor Madoka were really saying anything to each other. Madoka didn't seem happy about it, though.

Hitomi was upset.

Sayaka, you two-timer. Right in front of her, too.

Think about her feelings.

Maybe that wasn't fair, though. She caught herself; she didn't really know what they'd talked about together, why Sayaka had missed school. Hitomi was just assuming that it was second thoughts about her relationship. For that matter, they'd never said anything about having a relationship, though it did seem pretty obvious.

She considered for a moment. What if Sayaka actually likes Kyousuke?

Well, what if? Kyousuke was a really nice guy, a good listener, always kind and gentle, but with a drive and passion -- well, when you put it that way, he was rather like Papa, wasn't he? Good for Sayaka, then; any girl would be lucky to have someone like Papa. Though, perhaps without those regrets. Still. She wouldn't mind that for her friend at all.

But then she looked over to Sayaka and Madoka, and Madoka was squeezing Sayaka's hand in reassurance... and they were talking without talking again, most assuredly. m . . . . .

Lunch was nearly over.

"If I stayed home," said Kyousuke, "it wouldn't help get my legs back in shape. I'm hoping to get off these crutches and be walking on my own by next week."

"You haven't talked him yet, have you?" asked Madoka. "Why don't you go over and say Hi to him?"

"No, it's okay," said Sayaka. "Maybe later."

Oh, Madoka, thought Hitomi to herself. You're too kind.

. . . . .

She's indecisive. She's hesitating. She's being Sayaka. She made a big show about being as eager as ever, and committed to something she wasn't really ready for, and now she's scared and she doesn't know what to do.

And this time, people are going to get hurt. She might hurt Kyousuke; she'll definitely hurt herself... and she's hurting Madoka already.

But there's no backing down this time, Sayaka. You need to choose. You need to commit to something.

You need a push.

Hitomi had an idea.

Maybe it was a good idea. Maybe it was a terrible idea. It was a little too early to tell. She was talking herself into it, though. Papa always said that this was a bad sign with ideas.

Still...

If she's really in love with Madoka, and she chooses Madoka, well, then there's no harm done, she thought to herself. And if she's chooses Kyosuke...

if she leaves Madoka...

A shiver ran down her spine, and her heart beat quickly.

if I started going out with Kyousuke then Mama would be happy and I might even be happy too but if -- if she decided to leave Madoka...

No. Don't think about that, she told herself. Think about Kyousuke. Thank about Sayaka. It needs to be credible. If you tell her that she needs to choose then *you* need to commit too. You can't just lie to your friends, it needs to be the honest truth.

I'll make it the truth.

. . . . .

"I want to talk about love," declared Hitomi.

Sayaka's eyes went wide.

"I'll explain it. There's something I haven't told you or Madoka. But I can't stay silent any longer."

"Huh? Oh, okay."

"For a long time now, I..."

She hesitated.

It's for Madoka, she reminded herself.

"I've always liked Kyousuke Kamijou. And now I'm in love with him."

Ugh. Her delivery was awkward. She's going to call me out on it.

"O-oh, you are, huh?" said Sayaka. "I-I never would've guessed, Hitomi. That's awesome. I hope Kyousuke knows just how lucky he is."

"You've known Kyousuke for a while," continued Hitomi. "Weren't you friends since childhood?"

"Oh, yeah, sort of," she giggled, stretching her arms behind her head awkwardly. "We hang out together every now and then."

"... And it's nothing more than that?"

Sayaka didn't have a response.

"I've thought long and hard about this," said Hitomi, "and I can't lie to myself any longer. So, how about you? I need to know. Can you face your true feelings, Sayaka?

"Uh, true feelings?" she hedged. "What do you mean?"

"I take my friendship with you very seriously. And I don't want to get into a situation where you think I'm stealing him away from you. I want to respect the relationship you have with Kyousuke, because you've known him a lot longer than I have. That's why if you like him, you have a right to go after him before I do."

"Hitomi..."

"I'm going to tell Kyousuke how I feel after school tomorrow. That gives you one day to decide. Will you confess your true feelings to him or won't you? Think about what you want so you don't have any regrets later."

. . . . .

"Mama, Papa, I'm home," said Hitomi, coming in the door.

"Welcome home," said Mama. "There's a surprise for you here in the kitchen."

"A surprise?" asked Hitomi. She set down her bag by the stairs. In the kitchen, on the table, she found a single cupcake, with raspberries in matcha frosting.

"Oh," said Hitomi, "did Papa get this for me? He shouldn't have..." It was a really good bakery, though.

"No, no," said Mama, "this one is from me. Happy birthday."

"... I'm sorry?" asked Hitomi, confused.

"Well, since you're officially a teenager now, I thought I'd get you a little cake to mark the occasion," said Mama, her voice gentle, but cold. "You'd better be sorry. You made your Papa cry."

Hitomi blinked at the cupcake in confusion and shock.

"He'll be late getting back from work, I'm afraid, so enjoy yourself in the meantime," said Mama, with a smile. She placed the large kitchen knife down on the counter, next to the cupcake, and stepped out of the room.


End file.
